


MEMORIES OF THE FALLEN PRINCE [A Henry Story 1]

by AngstQueenRin



Series: [TUC] A Henry Story [1]
Category: The Underland Chronicles - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And actually got some proper character development?, Being forced to survive in the Dead Lands without human contact is not fun, Brotherly Bonding, But he'll pull through, Canon-Typical Violence, Flier OC, Forced Alliance, Gen, Gregor the Overlander - Freeform, Henry deserved better fite me, Idk how long this'll be tbh, It'll be hard but he will, Much OC & Henry bonding cause reasons, Slight Gore that's why T-rated, Survival, The AU includes all books and goes beyond but idk how much I'll write, This is part of a bigger and pretty old AU, Underland Chronicles Book 1 - Canon Divergence, What if Henry survived?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-19 05:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 169,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21862498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngstQueenRin/pseuds/AngstQueenRin
Summary: This is a story of failure, victory, growth, and change.A story of friendship, devotion, and hardships - some overcome, some never defeated.A story of survival.***To think it all started with a singular question – how would the story have gone, had Henry survived his fall at the end of “Gregor the Overlander”? Well, here is my attempt at an answer.Come along and follow the fallen Prince of Regalia on his further way, attempting to climb from the literal rock bottom he sees himself facing, back to the top.Despite all odds, will he prevail? And will he find what he is looking for, in the world he never knew existed, beyond Regalia’s walls?The fall is canonically considered the end of his story – but what if it was only the beginning?Meet new characters, species, face villains and obstacles, as you join this intriguingly unusual side-character-turned-protagonist on his own personal quest for the curious combination of survival, self-discovery, and, of course, the character development canon never gave him.And what a quest it will be.
Relationships: Henry & Original Character (Underland Chronicles)
Series: [TUC] A Henry Story [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630933
Comments: 10
Kudos: 6





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and welcome to the story!
> 
> I've finally finalized this story - and I wish you all much fun with it!  
I look forward to reading your comments/feedback, as that is the only reward a fanfic-author gets for their trouble, and how much does it really cost you, to write a short comment sharing your thoughts, compared to the months of work I put into this story, which I hope you enjoy(ed).
> 
>   
***
> 
> Please join the Subreddit I run for this trilogy for original art & extra content:  
r/AnUnderlandStory
> 
> ***
> 
> A COUPLE DISCLAIMERS:
> 
> \- The events described in this work will attempt to use the canon universe as well as possible. The fantasy-element will be exploited in a manner that coincides with canon, even though I reserve the right to add/expand on/tweak fantasy-elements and lore.
> 
> \- This work represents and takes place in an alternative universe to the canon series, but, if not specifically pointed out or described, the reader is to assume events occur as in the canon books. I only reserve the right to elaborate/explain non-confirmed things.  
The most important differences, between the alternate universe this story takes place in and canon, are the following:  
x Both Gregor and Luxa have been aged up from 11 to 12 by the time of their first appearances, Hazard has been aged up to 7 by the time of his first appearance, all other ages remain the same  
x The time passed between “Gregor and the Curse of the Warmbloods” and “Gregor and the Marks of Secret” has been increased to 18 months (from the original 6 months), so the total time passed between the beginning of “Gregor the Overlander” and the ending of “Gregor and the Code of Claw” changes to approximately 2 years  
x Henry lives – obviously, that one is the entire premise of the story.
> 
> \- This work is not meant to replace the original series. It is, instead, meant to be read and experienced parallel to the canon books, and understood as an add-on.
> 
> \- Proceed with caution if you have a phobia of heights, the darkness, or blood. Further content warnings include moderately graphic gore and depictions of mental health conditions such as PTSD and panic attacks. Consider it PG-13.
> 
> \- Please keep an eye out for easter eggs and not-so-obvious references to the canon books! They are scattered throughout and some are fairly well-hidden.
> 
> ***
> 
> If you really so must, you can skip the prologue. It is not necessary to understand the story, yet I would highly recommend still reading it, as it adds to the experience overall.  
You can also come back to it after reading the story, yet the best experience is reading the whole book in order.
> 
> *** 
> 
> This is the cover image I drew:  
http://fav.me/ddmlpor
> 
> Anyone care for an OST in the form of a YouTube playlist?  
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLhgI_fyB_J_8wJ7B6TvFkWJ4mX3AZVoqs

The noise startled the flier, even though it was only a quiet skittering. Yet in the deafening silence, it vibrated through his every fiber like a serious disturbance.

His eyes fluttered open. He had not meant to open them, but something in him wanted to know... know where the sound came from. As he scanned the darkness, his echolocation picked up a beetle, on its way from a crack in the wall. Its feet pattered along the floor and as the flier peeked his ears, he could make out every movement.

He had nothing else to watch, so he held his focus on the bug. When had he last eaten? He attempted to remember but his memory allowed him no access, and he had not the strength to fight the mist enveloping his mind.

It was misted... with what? Hunger? No. He had not experienced true hunger in a long time. So much so he found it hard to remember his body required food to function.

He watched the beetle as it made its way to the far end of the cave. Regardless of when he had last eaten – were he to do it now, he would not have to bother himself with it in a while. Then again, he seldom bothered with anything.

He remained where he was, allowing the beetle to scurry away. Who knew, perhaps it had somewhere to go? Somewhere it was needed? Awaited?

In an emotion close to agitation, he shut his eyes. He could not think like that. It was simply not worth it. Catching the beetle would require him to move, and he felt not like moving, not now.

The flier imagined his body as part of the stone against his back – unmoving, cold, eternal.

He remained exactly where he was.

_You used to be so restless, could never settle down. Remember how I kept asking for what your goal was, where you were even going? You could never answer._

The flier’s eyes flung open. There she was, yet a jolt of panic ran through him as he realized he could not make out her face anymore, not clearly. The fog of faded memory misted it, more than it had before. No, he squinted, he could not forget. He could not –

Yet when her face, at last, became clearer, something was wrong. The flier frowned - she looked up at him, but not carefree or cheerful as usual, no – her gaze emitted worry. _What happened to you?_

He closed his eyes back up. Nothing had happened. It had just... lost its appeal. As she was saying, it had been meaningless. There was nothing to be gained out of restless travels, what difference did it make to anyone?

_I don’t know, you just seemed... Livelier, back then._ She tilted her head, _even if it was meaningless, you at least retained your spirit. You were out there, you still... Lived. And what kind of life is hanging in a spot for days?_

The flier tried to chase her. He cared not whether she approved, she could not command him. She was dead.

_That doesn’t mean I can’t come and try to kick some life into your lazy ass!_ She laughed. The sound painfully resonated with every fiber of his body. _Besides, it is you who keeps me here. So either leave me to rest or get the hell out and live again. I’m serious about this!_

She looked serious. She barely ever looked serious. Yet the flier attempted to chase her again. Where was the point in getting up now? He had nothing to do, nothing to see, nothing to... live for.

_Then go the hell out there and FIND something! _He winced as he took in her desperate cry. _Your cause won’t magically fall from the sky, you have to go out there and throw yourself at life until it throws back a purpose._

No, it was impossible. There was no purpose. He could not imagine a single future in which he would find purpose again. Not anymore.

But she was still standing there, in his periphery, staring at him accusingly. The flier knew she wouldn’t leave, not unless he heeded her wish.

He glared at her, attempting to convey his irritation through his eyes. But, of course, you could not really death-glare a phantom image. She was yelling something else now, but the flier’s ears were ringing. Was it his name? Was she calling his name? What... was his name?

He had had a name, at some point. A long time ago, he had had a name. Back when there still had been people around to call him by it. But you did not really need a name when you lived alone. And the flier had been alone for a long time. Years? Decades? He did not know.

The ghost of her voice permeated him like a spear, and he knew she would not leave until he did what she wanted. He knew her far too well to think anything else. No – he would have to break his own rule and move.

To... Move. The flier focused all his willpower and forced his wings open. They felt not like parts of his body anymore, so long had they been idle.

Particles of dust and dirt hit the floor when he finally spread them and his legs nearly gave way as he dropped down. The flier reeled to the wall for support and waited for his head to stop spinning.

Maybe he should have eaten the beetle. Maybe he should... eat, or he would soon pass out.

He had no goal, not even a direction. The flier left tunnels and caves behind before he flew out into the open. It was a great cave, and running through he spotted a fast-streaming river. Unable to move any further he collapsed at the bank.

It took him several attempts, in his weakened state, to catch something, but the food and water reinvigorated him a little. The girl stayed away, as she sometimes did. There were times when the flier saw her almost constantly, and others when he feared he would never see her again. He... would see her again. He had to. She would find him, wherever he would end up next.

But... where even was he? The cave seemed not familiar and an overwhelming sensation of pointlessness washed over him as he lowered his head again. He knew not where to go from here, but what even would come out of going anywhere?

The river – he stared into the steady stream, the algae in the water emitted a ghastly, blueish glow that threw eerie shadows at the walls. The river had a clear purpose, a direction. It was alone, but it knew where it was going, that other creatures needed it to survive. That they... depended on it. When had someone last depended on him?

He allowed the thought to sink in. But if his life was so pointless, why had he not ended it yet? It would be so simple, too. All he had to do was not listen. Not listen to the girl, remain hanging until he would become part of the stone. The flier’s head sank to lie on the riverbank and he closed his eyes. Unmoving. Cold. Eternal.

“HE’S COMING! The KING IS COMING!”

He jerked up at the unmistakable screech of a rat.

“Be quiet, Sharpfang, for goodness sake! Yes, the king is coming, but not in a whole day!”

There was more than one. The flier’s mind reeled, he had to get away from here. Struggling to control his aching limbs he scrambled up, throwing himself in the air and out of sight.

He fled into a dark tunnel, leading away from the river. In his back, he still made out the rats, they had spotted him now – “Hey! What the hell is that flier doing here? Have the humans sent a spy?” Yet apparently, they had better things to do than to chase him, because they remained behind. Mocking screams and laughter was all that followed him into the dark shaft, but it too eventually faded.

The flier nearly ran into walls multiple times as he tried keeping himself in the air. He needed to get out of here. Away from them all, away from... Gorger, he meekly processed, they had said Gorger was coming... here.

He could not help but curse the girl for forcing him out of his resting spot. This was all her fault. He hadn’t even wanted to get up. Hadn’t he gotten up, he’d be safe. He’d be at peace.

He barely even registered he had flown out of the mound of the tunnel into a ginormous cave. Most of it was taken up by a steep cliff, it continued somewhere further up, yet as soon as he saw it, he turned. The flier did not want to go anywhere near a cliff ever again.

Instead, he scanned the opposing wall and found a shallow cavern, maybe a hundred feet above ground. The flier collapsed as soon as he had landed and closed his eyes. Relief washed over him – no more urgency to move.

He wanted nothing of the rats, and nothing of Gorger. All he wanted was to rest. And that he would do.

Though – he could have rested in death, then and there. He could have let them kill him. Yet for some reason, the thought did not please him. He would not die by rats. He would die, but he would die on his own terms. His life was meaningless. It had ended long ago. But maybe... maybe he could give purpose at least to his death.

That was it – why he had not ended himself yet. He was waiting for a cause. Something... worth dying for.


	2. Alive

* * *

It was pitch black. Not a single spot of light pierced the all-consuming darkness, the same darkness he had thought he was so used to. Now it only drained the last bit of lingering life out of him, ready to swallow him whole.

Henry desperately attempted to move but his body wouldn’t do what his brain commanded. Then he sensed it – above, below, left, and right, was he being crushed alive – or was he... already dead?

A wave of claustrophobic panic engulfed him and with his last remaining strength, Henry managed to move his hand... up. Only then he processed it wasn’t an endless void around him. No, what his now upward-reaching hand grasped was very real – fur.

It took him a second to process it surrounded him entirely, pressing against every exposed spot of his skin, and Henry felt sick to his stomach from the terrible suspicion as to what it may be... as to where he was.

With the last of his strength, he moved upward, combating his own drained body as well as the black, stinking masses around him for every inch closer to freedom. Then he finally pushed aside the last part of undefined mass in his way and there it was – air. He could breathe.

Filling his burning lungs with precious oxygen Henry found himself panting, his body desperately trying to get as much air as it could, after the seeming eternity he had spent, enclosed in...

Now the full realization as to what he was still stuck in, waist-high, hit the young prince like a tidal wave... rats.

Henry violently retched, fighting to free himself of the disgusting pile of dead rats that had, up until now, covered him entirely. If this was death, it was far from the soothing, peaceful rest they had described, when he had first asked, as a child. He did not feel at peace. Not with how he was still heaving, shaking, trying his best not to hyperventilate.

Henry wanted to scream, to fight, but his body was not obeying him properly. He could barely raise a hand to brush loose strands of hair out of his eyes and angrily untangle what had gotten stuck in the high collar of his jacket, before it fell back at his side, like the simple act of moving it required great physical exertion.

The rest of his weakened limbs gave way not long after and Henry fell back onto the body pile, firmly shutting his eyes – not that the view was much different, eyes open or closed.

He did not want to think about whether he was alive or dead – but it was hard not to think. What had... happened? Flashes of memories sparked before his inner eye, searing, blinding, overwhelming, making him wish he would have forgotten.

His ears rang with the long-faded battle cries of rats – the very rats he was lying on. The hatred in their voices and their eyes had etched itself into his memory, burning like a fresh wound. They had chased Gregor and he had – what had Gregor even been doing? Henry saw him, running, almost flying, and closing in on the cliff. Had he gone insane?

Henry had wanted to stay behind. He had not even wanted to go near the damned cliff, not after having treaded at the edge with the others, aware of how easily it could collapse. Besides, there had been no need. The rats were faster, more agile, and much more lethal than he, and they had already been chasing his... enemy?

A shiver ran down his spine. Had he really ever thought of any of them as enemies? Wanted any of them... dead? Henry remembered many nights he had spent awake, trying to come to terms with how they would possibly have to be sacrificed. He had eventually forced himself to accept it – but he had not ever wished death upon any of them. How even could he? They were his family... were they not?

He had wanted to keep out of the chase. Remain in the background, somewhere where he didn’t have to see their faces, their gazes, with their unbearable intensity. But then the eyes of Gorger clawed their way back into Henry’s mind. More hatred than he had ever seen in a living being had radiated from the king’s stare and he shuddered.

Those eyes had spoken to Henry. They had mocked him. I will not die alone, they had laughed, when both king and prince had fallen over the edge.

Only now Henry understood Gorger had made a conscious effort to pull him along when he had chased after Gregor, as if to make sure, should he die himself, the prince would too.

Henry furrowed his brows, trying to think of a motive for the rat king to want him dead. He had been helping him, after all. He had put himself as well as his loved ones at risk many times to go along with the plans of Gorger, but when their plot had failed, the king had attempted to kill him out of... what? Out of... frustration...? Contempt...? Spite...?

Had that really been the reason? Henry painfully clenched his jaw. _You can trust him_, she had said. Henry could not trust him. He should have never trusted any of them. This was what he had gotten for trusting them.

The full weight of the mistake he had made crushed him, suffocated him, like a boulder someone had placed on his chest, a boulder he was not strong enough to move.

He had done everything, put up with the mockery, the uncertainty, the fear – and his so-called ally Gorger had not thanked or rewarded him, no, he had pulled him into the stream of moving, running, and screaming rats. And once he had found himself caught, it had been impossible to escape. They had eventually dragged him close enough to the edge so that, when the floor had collapsed, he had fallen with them.

Henry remembered the initial jolt of panic, then only dry spite as he had found himself falling. No, that’s not how this works, he had wanted to scream in the face of the rat king. I won’t die like this. Falling doesn’t scare me. It has never scared me. Not as long as I have Ares, as long as I have a bond who has pledged his life to mine. He will save me, just you wait and see. Any moment now.

He had readied himself to be caught when the black silhouette of his bond had leaped over the edge after him.

Or so he had thought.

At first, he had felt anger. What is he waiting for, Henry had asked himself, making a mental note to scold Ares for his messing around later.

Then, the anger had turned to worry. What even was he doing? It had almost looked as if Ares had overshot, closing in on a different falling silhouette, much smaller than he.

Pure and naked fear had, at last, pierced his heart like a blade when his bond had darted for the smaller figure.

“ARES!” – a desperate scream had escaped his mouth when he had realized the flier was not going to catch him. The last thing he had seen was the black silhouette of his... bond. Winning altitude again, after having successfully caught Gregor.

Only then, having almost reached the bottom, Henry had understood he was actually going to die. Here. Now. Like... this.

Raw panic had overwhelmed him, lumped his throat, clogged his mind, and he hadn’t been able to scream anymore. He had simply closed his eyes, wishing for the impact, that would surely shatter every bone in his suddenly so frail seeming body, to come sooner rather than later.

But it had never come.

A muffled scream had finally escaped Henry’s mouth when something else had hit him, but not from the bottom as expected – from the side. For a moment he had felt the familiar and glorious sensation of soaring through the air again, as something had grabbed hold of his backpack.

The impact had forcefully emptied his lungs of all air, but his fall had been broken. He hadn’t had time to look who or what had grabbed him as the flight had harshly been interrupted by some sort of collision. It had been so strong it had ripped off the straps of his backpack and Henry had found himself free falling again for a few short moments.

It had lasted barely long enough for him to conclude the collision must have been with one of the falling rats before he’d hit what he had now identified as the body pile, and darkness had enveloped him.

Henry flung his eyes open. He was still panting and when he focused on his hand, it was shaking violently, like the rest of his body. Something had... caught him. Saved him. So... he was not dead.

Somehow, the realization made things worse. If he would be dead, he would not have to worry anymore. To think. To... live. Live with these memories that still swarmed his head and became harder and harder to bear with the second.

What had that even been – the thing that had grabbed him in mid-air? For a second he thought it had been Ares after all, but no, that was impossible. Ares had been long out of sight when the undefined flying object had saved him.

Long out of sight.

The pain of betrayal pierced his heart like a blade. Ares was his... bond, was he not? Was it not what he had sworn? Was it not what he had owed him? A bond, Henry squinted his eyes, a... bond who had not even hesitated, had headed straight for Gregor. Had not even leaped over the edge, with Henry in mind.

Hot tears now streamed down his face, tears of anger, of frustration, of pain... and fear. Henry was still shaking, his teeth were rattling uncontrolled, and the tears wouldn’t stop. He tried to fill his lungs with air, to lift himself up, but ended up collapsing back onto the disgusting surface he was still lying on.

Eventually, Henry gave up trying to stand. An undefined amount of time, that could have been minutes or hours, passed, and his tears dried. The shaking didn’t stop, but it became bearable. Yet the screaming pain in his head was still omnipresent, like a knife cutting flesh. Isn’t this the perfect irony – a traitor crying from betrayal.

Traitor. The word hadn’t settled in until now. Although he had been planning his coup with Gorger and the rats ever since Gregor had first set foot into Regalia, he had always refused to refer to himself in that way.

Why? Why was he a... traitor?

What even was so traitorous about his actions? He himself had always believed them to be justified. By visions of peace, the promise of power, of respect for himself. His way to find the so desperately longed-for recognition life had always denied him.

As long as Henry remembered, he had always been in second place, behind Luxa. She was wanted where he was dismissed, she was heard where he was ignored. She would be queen and he would forever be stuck in purposeless purgatory. He had wanted to be first for once. Had that been too much to ask?

Did that make him a... traitor?

He gritted his teeth as he thought back to his visions of a future he had indulged in for so long he had started taking them as real. Visions, in which all of the Underland would respect him, praise him, call him a hero. Not a traitor. But that, it suddenly hit him, was exactly what he was.

A hero he had wanted to be – had his throat allowed it, Henry would have let out a scoffing scream. A hero! And now – where was he now? Certainly not the glorified savior he had dreamed of being. No, he was... not really anything anymore.

Would he be in Regalia now, he’d be sitting in the dungeon, waiting to be executed. Henry began shaking even harder at the thought. Images of their faces, after he had revealed his true intentions, flooded his mind. Their shock, their genuine disbelief, and their visible contempt. Yet somehow, despite being blatantly aware his course of action must have been wrong, judging by where it had led him, their utter lack of understanding, of sympathy, still gnawed at his heart.

They had not even asked. Not even cared or listened or attempted to understand. _Not now, not ever._ Luxa’s answer to his attempt at convincing her to join him rang in his ears and a fresh wave of anger boiled up in Henry.

_Why not,_ he consciously thought, as if he could somehow send the words across to where she was now, to yell them at her as he hadn’t been able to before. _What exactly made you hate me so much? My teaming up with the rats? _He frowned, could she even be so short-sighted she refused to see the conflict between their species was pointless? All it had brought was death and more death, on both sides.

Then again, wasn’t he the short-sighted one, the naive fool who had gambled up his carefree, easy life for... what? Nothing, he had achieved nothing – but lost everything.

Where did he go wrong exactly? Henry squeezed his eyes shut, he had believed to be in the right so much he had thought it worth the risk, yet now he lied here, among the shattered corpses of the rats he had supported. He had not been in the right. But had his belief been faulty? Were humans and rats destined for eternal conflict? Or was it his trust in Gorger that had caused him to fail? His desire for recognition and power? Had it been selfish? Vain? Undeserved?

The questions clogged Henry’s head like a furious swarm of insects, crawling in his skull, their buzzing deafening and pungent. He had questions, but not a single answer. All he knew was that he had made a mistake, what the mistake had been he could only guess.

And he also knew he had caused his loved ones pain. Henry swallowed. He had thought it would be worth it. For the greater cause.

Yet it hadn’t been worth it. All of his deluded ambitions, secrets, lies, and his visions of future heroism and glory seemed so stupid all of a sudden. Like conjured up by the mind of a child, who could not see the truth when it was right in front of him. Tears began to fall again, not from the pain of betrayal, but from self-pity and... regret.

I should have died here. The thought pressed the last remaining air out of his lungs like an enormous boulder someone had placed on his chest. Why couldn’t I have just died here?

Henry found himself cursing his savior, he had always loved life so much but now the desire to simply vanish out of existence overwhelmed him and the simple state of living seemed like a burden, a burden he wanted to have the strength to lift.

But how could he ever lift it? Scenes were flashing before his inner eye, the laughing face of Luxa – he did not care whether they loved her more than him anymore. He loved her, that was all that mattered. That was all that had ever mattered, and he trembled in anger at himself for not realizing that sooner.

There were his chambers, back in Regalia, the packed dinner table, with everyone he had grown up with – Vikus and Solovet, embracing, like the married couple they were, the old nursery with the giant turtle and the secret it held, next to it the mural of the hero he would never be now. Then the knowing smile of his little sister Nerissa, her concerned, pale eyes, carrying a burden of her own.

Could she see him now? Could her visions reach him?

Never had Henry experienced regret before. Not really. He had always made an effort to view every setback as an opportunity. Yet now, the searing regret was the only thing he still could feel. The desire to somehow turn back time, to go back to how it all had used to be, it was eating away at his innards, and Henry thought it would never stop. Not until he had achieved the impossible, and found a way to undo... everything.

It was so much easier... it would have been so much easier... had he just died. Died, here, like he had been supposed to.

_The last who will die – _the words echoed in his head. It was... me, was it not? Henry’s body stiffened, almost too aware of how he was still... alive. It was me. _The last who will die._

Henry tried to quiet his swarming thoughts, to focus on the Prophecy. The Prophecy of Gray. It was still there, in his memory, he remembered the day when Vikus had first taken him to the room of prophecies. He had read it to him, and it was his voice now, that recited the familiar lines –

_The last who will die must decide where he stands._

Henry moved his lips along with the words. I most certainly decided, he thought, and swallowed the rising tears, trying to keep his mind void of distractions, to focus.

_The fate of the eight is contained in his hands._

_So bid him take care, bid him look where he leaps –_

I didn’t look where I leaped, I didn’t even second-guess it, he thought bitterly. I fell in the false hope I would be caught.

_As life may be death and death life again reaps._

The last line still didn’t make any sense. But this was surely the time Sandwich had written this last stanza about, was it not? The rest fit so perfectly, it had to be.

“I was supposed to die here.” He instinctively spoke the thought aloud, frightened of his own voice. It was hoarse and quiet and speaking was as painful as moving, but he had to get up eventually. Just lying here, letting his deluded mind wander, wouldn’t get him anywhere. Henry had never been one to give up easily.

This is a challenge, he now thought, a challenge to move my body, to get up, to... He lacked the strength to finish the thought, but it had nonetheless reinvigorated him a little.

Ignoring all the voices in his head asking what for even try, he managed to move his limbs and climb down from the pile of rats he had been lying on. Every inch of his body writhed in disgust and he started shaking again. His legs were barely able to hold him and, blind as he was, he stumbled through the all-consuming darkness, constantly running into more bodies of fallen rats and stumbling over his own trembling feet.

When he, at last, fell to his knees, about to give up, he remembered the fire stones he carried in the inner pocket of his jacket at all times. Light is life, his father had said when he’d given the very first two to his, back then only seven-year-old, son, and Henry had not gone anywhere without some since.

It took him a while to open his now blood- and dirt-stained jacket with his limp fingers, and even longer to fetch the fire stones.

He was stumped for a second when he realized he had no material to burn, but then he remembered the corpse of the rat he had just run into. With the last of his strength, Henry reached for it and grated the stones together.

Soon the dry fur of the dead rat lit on fire and for the first time, the young prince was able to see his surroundings. The fire burned brightly in his sore eyes and he squeezed them together at first, only slowly getting used to the new brightness.

His first glimpse at the scenery at the bottom of the cliff was mortifying. Henry managed to get to his feet somehow, suppressing the urge to vomit.

Endless seeming piles of corpses – lifeless, stinking, unnaturally positioned dead bodies of rats surrounded him. A lot of them were reduced to mere splatters of gut, blood, and fur on the floor, one of which was mere inches away from his right foot.

This could have been me, it flashed in his mind.

He had seen the dead before, even in large numbers. But this was different. Henry staggered away in repugnance, only to step back into another of the puddles.

No longer able to keep his revolting stomach at bay, he gave in and threw up, adding his half-digested last meal to the gruesome remains of what had once been a living being.

Three more times he emptied his stomach’s contents until there was nothing left and he tasted the bitterness of bile. Uncontrollably shaking he tried to keep himself standing, for he knew, if he would fall now, he would not have the strength or spirit to get back up.

His trembling legs barely carried him away from where he’d left his last few meals, away from the fire – and the ability to see the atrocities.

Through the ringing in his ears and his focus on moving forward without collapsing, he nearly overheard the voices until they were close enough to make out words – “The king died, right? Man, I wanted to see that!”

Rats. Living ones.

Blind panic engulfed Henry and he staggered backward, well-knowing he was as good as dead. The immense stink of death and blood that surrounded them was probably the only reason they hadn’t smelled him yet, though it would most likely not mask his scent for much longer. They would find him and reduce him to just another bloody stain on the floor.

There was apparently more than one as a different voice responded – “Dammit, Sharpfang, sometimes I don’t get your humor. But... fair enough.”

The banter was followed by laughter and it seemingly moved away from him. The rats hadn’t taken interest in the now dying down fire he’d lit yet, and he understood this was the only chance he’d ever get to escape.

Not smelling like dinner he wouldn’t, though.

Still staggering backward, Henry eventually came to a halt next to a larger puddle, consisting of blood and a few pieces of undefined flesh. Turning his head in anticipation of the rats constantly, an idea surfaced from the murky, foaming waves that were his mind. If he wanted to escape, he would have to fully and at least semi-permanently mask his scent. He stared at the puddle at his feet and tried to come to terms with what he had to do.

Turning his face away in utter disgust eventually, he simply fell to his knees where he stood, lacking the strength to stand any longer. Why was he even contemplating this? Why was he... trying to escape? Where would he escape... to?

The horrifying truth that he had nowhere left to go, engulfed him and his heartbeat tripled, like in protest. Luxa and the others would hardly be looking for him, and even if he wouldn’t be a traitor who would have already been arrested and executed, hadn’t he fallen off a damn cliff, he had no idea how to even get back to a more familiar area.

Let alone Regalia.

That was it, he thought. There was nothing... nowhere. His life should have ended here, he had no idea as to how it hadn’t, but he could think of nothing worth the considerable effort that escaping... living had turned into. It was so much easier... so much easier to... stay.

His eyes fluttered until they fell shut.

That is how the Prophecy would be fulfilled. He would die, only a little later than anticipated. When he died, he could finally rest, like everyone always said.

I’ll stay, he thought. Just stay here, and... stop fighting. Let them kill me. Let me... rest.

But as the full weight of his decision sank in, his eyes jolted open again. Dying was one thing, but dying by the claws of rats? Everything in him revolted violently at the thought. It was not a pleasant way to go, not a peaceful one. And they did not deserve the satisfaction.

Yet what other options had he? There was nothing else here, and he knew his legs were much too weak to lift his weight from the floor ever again. He could barely muster up the strength to think, let alone move.

He wanted not to die by the rats, but he could not escape either. It was like his body made the choice for him. What did it matter, in the end, how he died? Death was death. When I die, I can become like the stone, he thought, I can be at peace.

Henry’s eyes fell shut again as an immense wave of resignation washed over him, smothering him like a thick, impervious blanket. At peace. He was... at peace.

He would die, of that he was convinced. But he would not die screaming or running like a baby. Death would have him, but with the last bit of dignity he still had left. His aching body grew number with each second, anticipating death. He wasted not even another thought on the puddle.

What for, after all?


	3. Death

The blow hit entirely unexpected. It did not tear out his guts or rip his head off, like he had imagined an attack from the rats, instead, it smacked him over the head with an angry force, sending him face-forward into the puddle of blood. His entire upper body plunged into the sickening liquid, and wouldn’t his stomach already be as empty as it could be, Henry was certain he’d have thrown up again.

Snorting and gasping for air, he managed to lift himself up, retching violently from the metallic smell and taste of blood. It dripped from the tips of his hair, ran down his chin and the rim of his nose. Henry felt it seep into his clothes, the stench and the overwhelming disgust enveloped him and he thought he would pass out any second.

“What was that?!” – “I don’t know. It came from the direction of that fire. I thought one of us had lit that!” – “But that wasn’t the sound of a gnawer! And besides, since when do gnawers light fires?”

Henry cursed internally, trying hard to keep his head from spinning and his revolting stomach at bay. The noises must have attracted the attention of the rats, who seemed even further away now. Their voices were so distant he almost couldn’t make out words at all.

Then Henry remembered the force that had knocked him into the puddle. But before he had had time to look for it, he was violently yanked up by his leg, and lifted around ten feet in the air. Henry just about suppressed a scream, as that would have alerted the rats for sure.

He was facing downward, so he couldn’t even see his kidnapper, while the unknown creature carried him into one of the many openings that led away from the bottom of the pit. All of them were pitch black, and when they exited the grand cave, the last bit of fiery flickering was left out of sight as well. Once more Henry found himself surrounded by darkness, only this time, he was even grateful for it.

In retrospect, Henry wouldn’t have been able to tell how long they flew, but it couldn’t have been long. The flight of the kidnapper soon became unstable and he nearly fell, so much that Henry cried out and barely brushed the stone floor with the tips of his now blood-stained and sticky hair.

Eventually, he could make out the faint glow of a river in the distance and as soon as it came fully into view after the next turn, the creature let go of his leg, dropping him on the hard floor.

Henry groaned in pain, trying to determine whether he was just banged up or seriously injured, but he had not enough strength to properly check. All the fallen prince wanted was to stay there, exactly where he had hit the ground. His body felt like it would split apart, would he move even a muscle.

But then something else dug its way up from where he had buried it, something powerful enough to make him raise his gaze – curiosity.

“Not dead yet, are we?” The voice from the shade was barely more than a hoarse whisper. He thought it was supposed to sound mocking, but he made out a different, almost... pained, undertone in it as well.

Henry squinted his eyes and instantly widened them in surprise. For a second he thought the black shape cowering at the opposite wall was Ares – but, of course, it was not.

The flier had the right color and size, but the voice was not that of his bond – his former bond. He sounded strange, like he had not used his voice in a while. Like speaking posed a considerable difficulty for him.

The flier was not facing his way, instead, he pressed himself against the opposite wall, wings tightly wrapped around himself.

As Henry had processed the scene, he opened his mouth to respond, but his voice did not obey him, and his attempt ended in a coughing fit. He looked at his hands in the glow of the algae from the river – they were shaking again. He was scared. Henry hated admitting to it, even before himself, but he was scared out of his mind. Of the rats, of this flier, of his own unknown fate – even of the previously so eagerly awaited death. Of everything.

See how far it’s come for you, he scolded himself, but all it did was cause tears to rise in his eyes.

The flier shifted, and – in an awkward move for a bat – crawled closer to the water. When he spread his wings for the first time, Henry spotted the reason for the staggering flight and the crawling – a huge rip, half the length of his own lower arm, tore the flier’s left wing.

Had he seriously managed to fly with that kind of wound earlier? Henry gawked at it in disbelief, but then decided he had more important worries to bother with. He fixated the water and felt his mouth and throat burn with thirst. When had he last drunken anything? He instinctively attempted to inch closer to the painfully loud rushing, refreshing liquid, it was so close yet so far away. The metallic stink of blood was unbearable in his mouth and nose now, but his body was too weak to move any faster.

The bat raised his head at the noise but remained silent.

“Who... are you?”, Henry managed to utter in his direction, before falling over, barely keeping his head from hitting the floor. The flier stopped in his tracks. “Oh, it talks.” He still sounded mocking, but the pain in his voice was more evident now.

“But who –”

“That doesn’t concern you!”, the flier hissed and finally spun around to glare at him.

At the sight of his face, the young prince couldn’t help but wince in shock. It was, just like his body, originally black, but around his eyes and mouth, the flier’s fur had a large white stain. In the faint glow of the river the contrast of black and white was so extreme he looked like he was wearing a white skull mask, disrupted by a huge scar through his right eye and across the entire length of his face. His eyes glowed with a fiery amber – the young prince saw in them animosity, but also something else, something he failed to put his finger on. “And what are you staring at?”

Henry averted his eyes. “Nothing”, he mumbled, noticing with relief his voice had returned to something that sounded more like himself.

The flier snorted, like he knew exactly why his opponent had stared, before he turned away and started drinking from the river.

The burning of his own throat increased and Henry yearningly stared at the water. The thirst was one thing, the rat blood on his face and in his hair was the other. It had dried by this point, and now that he wasn’t in immediate danger anymore, the urge to get it off increased until he thought he wouldn’t be able to stand it a second longer.

He could do it. It couldn’t be that hard, right? Moving. Slowly but steadily, Henry lifted an arm, then a leg, and started dragging himself towards the water. He was about half-way there when the skull-faced flier noticed he had moved.

With one swift motion he leaped up and towards Henry. He reached the young prince way ahead of the river and pinned him to the ground with his entire body weight. The irritated hiss, that escaped his now wide-open mouth and revealed sharp teeth, was surprisingly quiet. It was still intimidating enough that Henry closed his eyes in anticipation of an attack he knew he couldn’t defend himself against, in his current state.

But it never came.

A few seconds passed and when the young prince slowly opened his eyes again, he found himself staring directly into the flier’s ghastly glowing white face. The expression in his eyes was still hostile, but he didn’t look like he was about to attack.

“And where do you think you are going?”

Henry glanced at the, so refreshing-looking, water from the corner of his eye. “I get that I’m your prisoner, but”, his gaze darted back to the flier with bitter defiance, “am I not even allowed to drink? And washing off all this gross blood you dunked me into earlier would be great too.”

The bat’s eyes tightened. “You will do no such thing, you imbecile. The blood remains, or we will have gnawers on our tails before you could count to ten. Like it or not, it is one of the best ways to mask one’s scent when traveling their lands.”

Henry groaned silently. Well that was just amazing, wasn’t it?

Then, something unexpected happened – the flier moved away. “Go and drink... if you must.” His voice sounded less aggressive than ever and he turned away under Henry’s unbelieving stare. “And... about the blood – if I were you, I’d make sure any open wounds are clean. That’s about it though!”, he added reluctantly and the young prince nodded, though he was fairly sure he wasn’t bleeding. Just bruised and banged up worse than he had ever been.

Every sore and liquid-drained part of Henry’s body thanked him as soon as he took the first sip from the river. He drank and drank until he was certain he had filled his entire empty stomach with water. The simple act of drinking was now the greatest sensation he had ever experienced, and he wanted nothing more than to just dunk his entire head into the cool stream, but the eyes of the flier, that were carefully watching, prevented him from going against his will, at least for now.

In his current state, he didn’t stand a chance against this powerful bat, who clearly, despite his wound, still posed an impressive opponent.

Every inch of his body despised feeling the weakness he so fiercely hated. He had so desperately wanted to avoid ever ending up like this yet now he was powerless, like something within him had broken and all his strength and confidence had run out, leaving only burning emptiness. Henry gritted his teeth as the realization sank in, gnawing at him worse than anything this day had entailed so far.

He bothered not to move either, instead, he remained lying next to the stream, watching it run seemingly infinitely from an unknown spring to an unknown destination. He was out of immediate danger, so his thoughts started running wild, pecking at the inside of his skull like they were trapped inside.

Henry had no idea how long he spent, lying at the bank of the river, and he knew not whether he would even get up on his own accord anymore, but after what may have been five minutes or five years, the flier apparently found he had waited long enough. “Great, now that you’ve drunk, I’ll give you a few hours rest and then we leave.”

Henry jerked up, nearly slipping in the puddle of water that had formed around his head. “L... leave?”

The flier rolled his eyes. “Yes, LEAVE. In contrary to your claim earlier, I do not consider you my prisoner.” To himself, he mumbled, “as if I’d ever burden myself with this ballast for longer than I had to.” Louder, he continued – “We leave for the border of the rats’ land. Once we’ll reach it, we part ways. Then you can crawl back into the hole you came from – or go to hell really, I don’t care. Understood?”

Henry stared at him, trying to comprehend his words. He was going to dump him somewhere in the Dead Land, believing the prince had a place to return to. And then what?

Like an icy wave, the realization he would most certainly die in a couple of days out here without protection hit him and his chest tightened in shame. “So you’ll condemn me to death”, Henry’s voice was hoarse with contempt. “Why did you even save me, if all you wanted was to leave me to die later, anyway?”

He had not meant to expose his fear of being left alone outside of known territory but what else was he to say? The mere thought sent cold shivers down his spine and he swallowed hard. “You... you DID save me, didn’t you?” The force that had broken his fall... it must have been this bat. What else could it have been?

The flier with the skull face narrowed his eyes. “Yes, however, I am beginning to question the wisdom of that decision now. And besides, that’s exactly why I am leaving you OUTSIDE the rats’ land and not right here.”

“You’re making excuses!”, Henry shot back, glancing down at his hands. “It’s not like I ever asked you to save me.” He had lowered his voice to a suppressed whisper and his opponent proceeded to pretend he hadn’t heard him when Henry knew perfectly well no sense of hearing matched that of a bat.

A sudden wave of desperation crushed his newly blossoming spirits in the form of certainty his end was near. As soon as he leaves me, I am as good as dead – the thought scared and displeased Henry, he had always valued and been proud of his independence and strength. Here, far from home and friends though, he was as helpless as a bug caught in a spinner’s web.

Anger at the flier boiled up in his gut. Henry had just accepted his own inevitable death and then he had to come along and save him – again. Why? Who did he even think he was, to decide whether the prince lived or died?

Henry closed his eyes, attempting to reinvoke the resignation that had enveloped him when he had decided to no longer fight for his life. “It’s pointless, you know? All of this is pointless. It won’t matter to anyone where you leave me. The only thing you can still do is finish me off here and now.” Henry knew the words came from his mouth, it was his voice, yet a part of his brain had trouble believing he had truly uttered them. It sounded so far from anything he had ever heard himself say.

“I cannot do what you asked. There is no place left that would welcome me with open arms – or really anything other than a blade to the heart. And as soon as you leave me, I will most certainly find death within a few days anyway.”

Henry felt like a passive bystander, watching himself speak, so foreign his own words seemed. He had no idea where he had even found the strength to utter them, but he knew he couldn’t allow himself to show any more of the so despised weakness. He himself was the only one who had any right to decide when he should live or die, and at this point, his decision was made. He would not be a coward and go back on it now. “Dying by the strike of someone who still knows honor is at the moment the best thing I could hope for.”

The words burned in his mouth and he had to bite his lip in unbearable discomfort. How infinitely glad he was nobody was here, to witness this most shameful moment in his life – the once so proud Prince of Regalia reduced to begging his enemy for a swift death.

The entire time the strange flier had watched motionlessly. When Henry had called him honorable, he had snorted, as if supremely amused by the association.

After Henry had finished his little speech the bat only shifted, not in any noticeable hurry to fulfill his wish. Instead, the two sat in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds, which to the young prince felt like hours.

“Oh for both our sake, will you kill me already?”, Henry finally blurted out, unable to stand it any longer. “It would save us both a lot of trouble and you know that!”

Despite his invitation, Henry still jerked back in surprise when the flier made his move. Swiftly and silently as before, he leaped at him and in a split second pinned the young prince to the wall, this time pressing one of his long, sharp talons at his throat.

“You really wish to die so badly?” His voice was but a quiet hiss. “What in the world did you do, to leave yourself nowhere to return?”

Even if his jaw wouldn’t be threatened by a sharp claw, the young prince wouldn’t have known what to answer to that.

It’ll happen, he’ll do it, flashed in Henry’s mind and an entirely unexpected and unwanted emotion grabbed hold of his heart – fear.

No, I can’t be scared, I asked him to do it, Henry thought and yet failed to shake the sensation, that only grew in intensity the longer the flier held him pinned to the wall, to the point where the young prince felt he was trembling and angrily squeezed his eyes shut. His heart audibly raced and he swallowed repeatedly, searching for any leftover traces of his former resignation – in vain.

He did not want to die, Henry knew that for a fact suddenly. Every fiber in his body screamed at him to run, to save himself by any means necessary, yet he forcefully suppressed the instinct.

And if I do run, what’ll happen? I’ll run into a pack of rats, and I’ll die regardless.

The overwhelming sensation of helplessness filled his eyes with tears but he knew it was too late to go back on his demand. If he began begging for mercy now, he might just die of shame anyway.

No, enough with the second thoughts, he reprehended himself. He needed to stop being a scared, unreasonable child, and do exactly what he had wanted all along – let death have him with dignity. Out of all possible futures he could see for himself at the moment it was the most desirable one.

Attempting to disregard the knot of fear in his stomach and blinking rapidly to purge the tears, Henry finally squeezed his eyes shut, in preparation for a strike.

“Now, I most certainly desire to rid myself of you as fast as possible”, the flier, at last, spoke, yet still made no move to strike. “However”, he paused and stared at Henry intensely for a few seconds, “after all the work I’ve put in, trying to keep you alive, killing you now would be the same as giving up – and I don’t DO that.”

Henry flung his eyes open. He stared back at his opponent and opened his mouth, but closed it again as he failed to come up with a response.

“Then again –”, the flier was apparently not done yet, “who am I to refuse a request like this? It is on you to decide the time of your death, so if you truly so desire, I will do what you ask.”

He eased his grip a little and sounded a dry laugh, “You know what”, his tone had lost all hostility, “you’re probably right. A swift death now is miles better than what the world out there would do to someone like you.”

_Someone like you._ The phrase burned itself into Henry’s mind like a seal of hot iron. “Spare me your false pity”, he hissed, “I don’t need it! All I want from you IS DEATH!”

The flier narrowed his eyes as if trying to determine how serious he was, and tightened his grip. His talon now lightly bruised the skin on Henry’s neck and his own blood mixed with the dry rat blood still covering his entire upper half.

“Alright.” His voice was cold, but Henry also thought he spotted reluctance in his stare. “If you are so certain then say it. Say the word and I will fulfill your wish!”

Henry twisted his neck and gritted his teeth in pain from the claw at his throat, desperately pressing into the wall. From the corner of his eye, he caught another glimpse at the flier and knew he had to do something, say something, anything that wouldn’t make him seem even weaker.

Openly going back on his request was out of the question, but Henry also knew, no matter how much he hated himself for it, he had not the guts to go through with it either.

He didn’t know for certain he would be killed. It hadn’t happened yet, so it wasn’t set in stone, he thought, ignoring all visions of being gruesomely slaughtered by some hungry beast or starving to death in a lonesome cave his imagination instantly conjured up. It hadn’t happened yet.

Yes, the chance he’d survive out here was slim, but it was bigger than zero. Henry glanced over to the other side of the river and the black tunnel opening leading away from it. What lied beyond? What other things were out there he hadn’t yet seen or done? He didn’t know, but he knew if he allowed the flier to kill him now, he’d never find out either.

A wave of fresh will to live engulfed Henry and his gaze met that of his opponent. No, if I allow him to kill me, he thought, I’ll be throwing away the last bit of a chance I have left. It was like... another challenge. A challenge with the sole objective to survive. Yes, the odds were bad, but since when did that ever scare him?

Henry attempted to silence the pungent voice in his head that screamed he was an idiot to think he had what it took to survive more than a day out here and forced himself to think.

He knew he needed to convince the flier to let him live somehow, but he further knew his decision to not reduce himself to begging for mercy stood firm as ever. There had to be a better option. Henry was anxiously chewing his lower lip in an attempt to figure out what to do.

“Well?”, his opponent asked, with audible impatience, “Any words coming?”

It was clear he wanted to hear something, and whatever Henry said now would permanently decide his fate, that much he knew.

Then, a crazy idea dug its way up into his conscience. It was so unbelievably dumb Henry dismissed it at once, then instantly reconsidered, eyes on the flier at all times. Maybe it was dumb, but was it just dumb enough to work? If it did, it would certainly get him out of this mess. And who was he even to not give it a try?

Henry swallowed, making a conscious effort to not avert his gaze, and, after a final moment of hesitation, quietly mumbled – “... word.”

A few seconds passed in which the flier stared at him in visible confusion. Then he released his grip on the prince.

Henry nearly lost balance due to his still weak legs having to carry his entire weight so suddenly, but managed to keep himself standing, curiously watching his opponent for some sort of reaction.

The flier stared at him before he let out a snorting noise, quickly followed by what Henry believed was the worst laughing fit he had ever seen any flier get. He laughed for nearly a minute straight and had apparently forgotten the threat of possible near-by gnawers hearing them entirely.

An immense wave of relief washed over Henry and he couldn’t keep a light chuckle to himself. He had no idea where that had come from, it wasn’t like he cared much, though. He was just glad it had worked, at least for now.

As the flier kept laughing, Henry felt the cold stone in his back and consciously relaxed his tensed muscles. Unable to control his aching body, he sank to the floor and remained sitting, waiting for his opponent to calm down.

When the flier, at last, came to a halt in front of him, still combatting laughter and shaking his head in disbelief, Henry managed to throw him a somewhat challenging grin. “We good?”

The flier let out another “Ha!”, before finally speaking – “Yeah, that settles it. You will not die any time soon. Not if I leave you here, not if I leave you in the Dead Land – or anywhere.”

Henry’s grin faded and he stared at his opponent in confusion. That hadn’t been the reaction he had anticipated at all. Noticing his gaze, the flier turned to him, a new glimmer in his eyes. “You are not one to die”, was all he said.

Henry continued staring at him as he let the words sink in. He was infinitely glad it had worked, though the more he thought about it, the more he felt like it shouldn’t have. He failed to understand how one stupid joke indicated any sort of survival-ability. Henry had made a lot of stupid jokes in his life, and while this one most certainly dwarfed them all, he failed to see logic in the flier’s conclusion.

As if he’d read his mind, his opponent instantly proceeded – “You ask me to kill you out of pity, but do you even need me to pity you? Death is not really what you crave, is it? You’re just too proud to go back on it now.” The gleam in his amber eyes strengthened. “You don’t seem the type to give up on life that easily.”

Anxiety and excitement clogged Henry’s throat as he attempted to process the words of the bat. Had he just, through a singular dumb, obnoxious joke, understood the conflict Henry was facing? The one he didn’t even fully understand himself?

Unshakable determination to live, at all cost, flooded the young prince at the flier’s words. For the first time, he allowed himself to have hope, yet as soon as the sensation engulfed him several alarms in his head went off. What reason to hope did he have, after all?

Henry’s grin faded as he remembered his situation hadn’t exactly changed. Still, he knew very well how far determination and resolve alone could get you in life. And his resolve had just been resurrected, stronger than ever. He was not one to die.

“Well, can I safely assume you had a change of heart then?”

The young prince hesitated for a moment, then he nodded – pride be damned. “Death is never inevitable unless you yourself decide for it to be so. And now I decided, before that ever happens, the world will have to fight me for every ounce of life in my body.”

Upon hearing his words, the bat let out an approving growl. “Good, and here we agree on something, I’d almost given up hope.”

Henry eased up as the atmosphere between them notably lost hostility. For the first time, he inspected the bat closer and took notice of the visibly bad shape he was in. His fur was tattered and clumped, it looked like it hadn’t been tended to in weeks. His claws were stained in a strange substance of which Henry thought it could be blood, and the tissue on his wings looked strained, he even spotted something like folds – as if the flier had hung in a spot for too long recently and hadn’t used or even opened his wings in a while.

Then his gaze met the rip and he finally pointed at it. “How did that happen? Was it when you saved me? It’s pretty impressive you could still fly with a wound like that.”

“One of the falling rats wanted in on the ride. It’s not half as bad as it looks.” Despite the confidence in his voice, Henry could easily tell he was in far more pain than he let on.

He eyed the flier again and inevitably asked himself what had happened to put him in such a miserable condition. Where had he even come from? He had been there to save him, but why? What was he... doing here? He had never seen him before, of that Henry was sure. He would remember that kind of distinct face. His wing was injured, what would he do now? He could not fix it on his own. Henry wanted to ask, but then he thought the flier would probably not answer regardless, so he remained silent.

Does he not... have anyone? The young prince furrowed his brows. Was he talking to... an outcast?

He had already opened his mouth to put his observations and thoughts into words when he remembered something. The flier couldn’t fix his injury on his own, but perhaps Henry could. “That wing... hold on, I can maybe do something about that.” He awkwardly fumbled with the clasp of his belt pocket and pulled out a simple sewing kit.

Vikus always had him and Luxa carry one when they were traveling with their bats. Injuries of the wings were the worst thing that could happen to a rider and his flier, as they rendered the bats unable to fly, although Henry had never used it. He had always been more interested in killing than in healing. And, well, this bat wasn’t his bat, but Henry knew he owed him. He had saved his life.

Henry gritted his teeth – he had saved him, after his own bat, his bond, had let him fall.

But as soon as the strange flier saw what Henry had pulled out, he stiffened up again, retreating to the opposite wall. “Do not even attempt to touch my wing.”

“Alright, alright, it’s your choice, I just thought I should offer –”, but the flier interrupted him – “I DON’T NEED any help, especially not yours, understood? And now rest, or do you wish to leave right away?”

Henry froze, sewing kit still in hand. He still wanted to go through with his original plan of dumping him somewhere in the Dead Land. His hope had indeed been unjustified, nothing had changed. Of course it hadn’t. In retrospect, Henry even called himself stupid for hoping at all.

He reluctantly put away the sewing kit, then looked around the cave for a place to sleep. It was really all the same – hard stone floor.

The flier had apparently noticed Henry’s disapproving expression and started mocking him again – “Oh, is the floor perhaps not good enough for our human with the exceedingly high standards? Would he perhaps prefer for me to immediately go out of my way to find a suitable pillow or two for his oh so high held head?”

Henry wanted to reply but found himself much too tired to start an argument. All he did was ignore the mocking and carefully lie down, knowing very well he’d be stiffer after he’d wake up than he was now.

Already in the process of closing his eyes to give in to the long-needed rest he suddenly remembered something – “Hey”, his voice was quiet and he bothered not to turn and face the flier, “You haven’t even told me your name yet.” Even more quietly he added – “I’m... Henry.”

The gaze of his opponent pierced his back – “You... do not really need a name when you live alone. Though, a long time ago –” he paused as if remembering his own name posed a considerable difficulty, “People used to call me... Thanatos.”

At the somewhat confused “What?” of a tired prince whose brain failed to instantly translate the name, he added – “Death.” His voice was as quiet as Henry’s. “It means... Death.”


	4. Even

The first thing Henry noticed, when he opened his eyes, was the deafening silence. The glow from the algae in the river had dimmed down a little while he had slept, it probably varied in intensity over the course of the day.

The second thing he noticed was how Thanatos was gone.

He left me, was his first thought. He just upped and outed and left me here, he didn’t even bother taking me to the Dead Land.

Right after it crossed his mind, Henry decided it was unlikely. Why would he have even talked about it if he had planned on leaving him here anyway?

Carefully, the young prince attempted to sit and immediately found his worries from earlier confirmed. His entire body was stiffer than it had ever been, everything ached and he felt dirty, sore, and sticky all over. Just about now, Henry would have traded everything for an hour or two in one of the bathrooms in the palace of Regalia. But, of course, that wish remained a pipe dream.

When he had managed to get up and had stretched for a while, until he could at least properly move again, he noticed the emptiness of his stomach for the first time, since the fall. Henry remembered he hadn’t eaten ever since the breakfast Ripred had allowed them, on the day they had found Gregor’s father, and even then, it had only been a single sandwich.

The fact that the dish had the same name as their founder still greatly amused Henry before he remembered the mere memory of food wouldn’t help satisfy his hunger. He had also thrown up earlier, and the emptiness of his stomach was now painfully evident.

Henry placed a hand on top of it and heard it audibly growl. He swallowed. The sensation of hunger was a new experience for the prince, and it added to his anxiety. He needed to find something to eat, as soon as possible.

Henry raised his eyes to look around. Where could he possibly find food, in this no-mans-land? His gaze then met the river, and the view of the ghastly glowing water gave him hope. Maybe it had fish?

When Henry moved closer, to check, he was flooded with joy as he caught his first glimpse at a silvery spine, swiftly moving beneath the surface. He sighed in relief, maybe this wasn’t so bad. All he had to do now, was catch it. But when Henry attempted to grab the handle of his dagger, which he expected in his belt, where he had left it, he gripped only air.

A wave of panic engulfed him when he glanced down, to find the weapon was gone. The dagger, his dagger – it was gone! Henry found himself frozen solid, desperately fighting the imminent wave of fear. How was it gone?

The dagger had been beautifully ornated and the first weapon he had ever possessed – Luxa’s dead uncle Hamnet had given it to him on his fifth birthday, when he had started his training with arms, and ever since then, he had treasured it like nothing else.

But that was not the worst part. Henry swallowed, trying hard to suppress the uprising panic. The worst part was – it had been the only weapon Henry had thought he still had. His sword, which he liked to carry on his back, Thanatos had torn off when he had broken his fall, together with his backpack. Both lied somewhere at the bottom of the cliff now, among hundreds of rat corpses.

For the first time, Henry fully and truly understood he was here, somewhere in the rat’s land, alone – and completely unarmed. He swallowed harder and blinked, trying to force himself to think proactively. He couldn’t afford to panic now.

Where was the dagger? It must have fallen out somehow when he had climbed out of the rat pile, it was the only option he could think of. And how was he ever supposed to get it back from there?

Henry desperately tried to calm himself by taking deep breaths. Everything would be fine. He was not in imminent danger, and he should go back there anyway at some point, to search for his sword and his backpack, which he remembered had cloths and a water bag. As little as Henry knew about survival, even he understood those would be good to have. But how was he ever going to dig through the mountains of rat corpses on his own?

Henry shook his head to rid himself of the swarming thoughts. Worrying wouldn’t do him any good. For now, he decided it was better to focus on what he could do, not on what he couldn’t. He would worry about everything else in due time.

First and foremost, the priority was food. There had to be something here he could eat without needing a blade.

But as hard as he looked, the young prince quickly found that, besides the fish, everything in close proximity was inedible. And there was no way he could have caught one of those with his bare hands.

Henry clenched his jaw, before determinately standing up. If Thanatos was gone – wherever he might have disappeared to, permanently or not – he would have to go out there to look for food himself, if he didn’t want to starve. And as of his decision yesterday, that was out of the picture.

Satisfied with himself for having decided on a course of action, Henry raised his gaze to stare into a black tunnel opening across the river. It was the sole exit he could see, and the mere thought of venturing out there, into hostile, unknown territory, with neither light nor a weapon, made his skin crawl. He was desperate, but not suicidal. Not anymore. If this was ever happening, he would need a better plan than just the decision to go. He would need something – anything – to defend himself with.

While at least attempting to comb through his hair with his fingers and get the worst knots and pieces of dried blood out, Henry tried to come up with an idea for any kind of weapon. He searched his memory for what he had used in the past, swords and daggers were unavailable, of course.

Then, a much more innocent and kind time came to mind, a day, around three years ago, when he and Luxa had been supposed to study inside but instead, they had snuck out to play. Proudly, Henry had demonstrated the slingshot he’d made from an old leather belt. Back then, he had been a decent shot – at least for a thirteen-year-old.

A slingshot, Henry thought. That’s an easy enough weapon to make, and it can be lethally effective. He almost smiled when he recalled doing target practice on one of the stone walls of the Regalian palace and leaving dents that were still visible to this day. He had received much scolding for making them, but it had been worth it. To leave a lasting mark. He had told Luxa he would one day show the dents to his own children and grandchildren, as proof of his stories.

The hint of a smile instantly faded and Henry shook his head. Enough with the reminiscing. What even was going on? He wasn’t usually this sentimental, not even remotely. Henry scoffed – the past was the past, it could not help him now. But the slingshot could.

I’ll need some sort of leather piece though, and a sizable one, if I want to throw something larger than pebbles, he thought while rising to his feet. For the first time, Henry gave his attire a closer inspection. The only leather he had were his belts and the jacket he wore over a shirt made from fine spinner silk.

The belts were too small, and he needed the pockets on them to carry things, among which stones for the sling, as he had no proper bag. After some consideration, he took off his jacket and decided to cut a sleeve off. The lack of blade posed a temporary obstacle, but he overcame it by using the clasp of one of his belts to cut the seam between sleeve and jacket.

After scratching off the dirt and blood and rinsing it with water thoroughly, he thought it was ready for a trial run. Henry picked up a stone, around the size of his palm, from the many that lied scattered at the bank of the river. But when he loaded it and attempted to aim, he hesitated as he hadn’t used a slingshot in years. The fact he had to consciously think about how to do this chipped his newly blossomed confidence, but Henry was not about to give up this easily.

Only after a couple of failed attempts the muscle memory returned and he hit his designated target – a little indentation on the wall that bordered the river – three times in a row. The last blow was so hard it nearly doubled its size.

That should at least knock a rat out if I can hit the head, he thought, and the hint of a smile returned. Satisfied with himself he picked up a bunch of stones and stuffed all his pockets with them, yet he could only fit eight shots. He’d have to keep an eye out for more on the way.

Henry had already taken a couple steps back to leap across the river when a different thought crossed his mind – he had nothing for close-up combat. What if a rat grabbed him, and he had no time to fire his sling?

After some consideration, he decided to take the two shorter belts that had formerly held the sheath of his now missing dagger and wrapped them around his hands. He then stuck the pointy part, that usually went into the hole on the belt to fasten it, out between his middle- and ring finger.

If I ram that into an eye or a neck, it should buy me enough time to get away, he pondered, urgently hoping he’d never have to try.

Equipped with his new makeshift-weapons, Henry, at last, felt comfortable enough to jump the river and make his way down the sole tunnel leading away from it.

He made an effort to be as quiet as possible while also having the sling ready at all times. Deep down he knew, should he actually run into a pack of rats, he wouldn’t stand a chance, especially without light. Still, not being completely unarmed at least gave him the illusion of being able to defend himself.

Henry half-sneaked, half-hurried down the same tunnel, without ever crossing over into occasional narrower sideways. That way, it was easier to remember how to get back, and it wasn’t like he had a specific goal anyway.

He found it hard to tread without a light source at first, but he had never been scared of the dark, and he wasn’t about to start now. His eyes soon adapted to it to the point where he could make out shapes, he wouldn’t run into anything at least. Henry thought the light from the river or from somewhere else reached here, somehow.

Around ten minutes must have passed when he first heard rats. He immediately dove into a tight niche in the tunnel wall, even though the rats were far ahead. Henry’s heart was pounding out of his chest and he urgently hoped the blood from yesterday still sufficiently covered his scent, which apparently it did, as the rats didn’t notice him.

Carefully, he dared leaving the niche to creep closer and listen in on their conversation. Maybe whatever they said would help him get out of here, find food, or at least avoid the group they belonged to.

Henry trod as lightly as he could, but he still found himself internally cursing at how loud his own steps seemed now. What would he have given for some shoes, the way Gox the spinner had made them during the quest, to silence his steps.

When Henry had come close enough to understand the rats, he darted behind a ledge, to listen –

They were two, a taller and a shorter one. “No, no, I’m telling you, you will want to see this, Clancer!” That was the voice of the tall rat, Henry spotted a piece of his ear was missing. He sounded somewhat agitated, while the smaller one cowered in front of him, almost submissively.

“Bonebreak and Vessil finally caught him, you say?” – “Yes, yes, that flier who’s been sneaking around on our territory like he owns it, Bonebreak plans to make an event of his death, as an example.” He sounded something like a dry laugh, “Says nobody treads on his territory and goes unpunished. Well, at least we’ll get a show out of it.”

Henry’s hand clutched hard around the sling until the belt dug into his skin. It was shaking. There was no doubt they were talking about Thanatos. He was an outcast, and no flier who wasn’t spent any more time here than he absolutely had to, of that Henry was certain.

As he realized what that meant, he had to suppress a wave of guilt. He didn’t leave me behind on purpose, the young prince thought, he’d been captured by the rats. Then again – why would he feel guilty? The flier was a stranger, they had no obligations towards each other whatsoever.

The only question that inevitably arose, was why he’d ventured out alone while Henry had been sleeping. But the young prince suppressed it for now. He had a decision to make, and fast, before the two rats disappeared out of sight – should he follow them to Thanatos and attempt to rescue him?

Henry knew he was ill-equipped for a fight against more than a few rats, and “make an event of his death” sounded like there would be a lot more than a few. Besides, it was so much easier to simply turn his back and leave, instead of risking his life for someone he had only met yesterday.

On the other hand, the flier with the skull-face had saved his life, which would mean this was his chance to get even. The unwanted sensation of debt gnawed at him and Henry doubted more opportunities to rid himself of it would arise, especially with how the flier planned to leave him.

Besides, Thanatos had already proven to be strong, fast, and possessing incredible endurance. Maybe if he saved his life now, he would be able to gain him as an ally, even if only temporarily. Henry knew getting Thanatos to team up with him was his best chance at surviving the next couple of weeks and months, perhaps even years.

Before the numbing fear, the sole idea of spending years out here brought with itself, could overwhelm him, Henry shook the thought. What he needed to do now was focus on maximizing his chances of survival, at all costs.

That settled it. He knew he’d rather die fighting than running, so why not take his chances now? Besides, having the odds against him had never scared him too much. Quite the opposite even, he had always been the one to face every challenge that presented itself to him head-on, the harder the challenge the faster he usually accepted it. So why shouldn’t he try his luck with this one? Saving a flier from a couple rats, sounded more like a party, like fun, Henry thought, while biting his lip in an attempt to keep himself from shaking in fear.

As quietly as possible, he followed the rat named Clancer and his friend into a vast cave. Light seeped in from a crack in the ceiling, not much, but enough to make out it had four tunnels leading out of it. They took the one on the very left and Henry went after them, always making sure to leave enough room between them, to not be spotted.

A few paces into the tunnel it took a turn and led to a narrow ledge, beyond which another large cave opened. Henry readied himself to jump down, but when he squinted his eyes to make out what lied ahead, he froze in shock. In the cave before him he could make out the squirming, shifting silhouettes of dozens of rats.

Henry desperately clung to the wall, trying to control his trembling, while the rats he had followed jumped down and joined a few others who stood in the middle of the crowd.

The cave was pitch black and Henry could barely see what was going on. There was no way he could fight anything under the given circumstances. His thoughts reeled when a new rat entered, carrying what he had been looking for – two lit braziers he soon positioned on each side of the cave.

It was unusual for the gnawers, who didn’t need light to orientate, to use light sources at all, though on this particular occasion they apparently wanted to see what was going on. Henry didn’t care much for their motivation, though. Instead, he relished the wave of relief the light had brought with itself.

As soon as the cave was illuminated and his eyes had adjusted, he retreated further behind his little ledge, and instantly discerned two things –

First, there weren’t as many rats in it as he had originally thought, only around a dozen, which was still more than he could handle. Second, they were using light as none of them wanted to miss the main event – the execution.

Thanatos was in the middle of the cave, held down by two relatively large and muscular rats, one light grey and the other nigh-pitch black.

Henry’s spirits faded at the miserable sight of the formerly so energetic and powerful bat. He was being forced on the floor, stomach-down, and his wings were fixated in place by the rats, in a visibly uncomfortable angle. Even the rip in his wing had seemingly gotten worse.

Yet the most unnerving part was how he, who had demonstrated such excellent strength before, had now visibly given up struggling. His eyes were closed and his ears put on. A new wound on his lower body was bleeding badly and wouldn’t his chest have been sinking and rising in shallow breaths, Henry could have thought him dead.

The black rat, who held Thanatos’ left wing, had a huge scar on his right shoulder and seemed to be the spokesman of the assembly. He condescendingly glanced around and raised his voice, as soon as he saw Clancer and his friend enter. “Greetings, greetings to all gnawers who decided to join today’s fun time!” His words were received with howling and cheers.

Henry eagerly listened until he had processed this speech was his timer. Surely the rats would rip Thanatos to pieces as soon as their leader finished talking.

Henry stumbled back before hesitating, running away wouldn’t do him any good, he needed a way to free the flier without getting his own head torn off, and for that, he had to look around.

At first, he despaired. There seemed to be no way to get to Thanatos from here without getting ripped to shreds, but when he looked up, he spotted a ledge along the entire rounded wall across from where he stood. It was fairly narrow but nearly thirty feet high.

Henry followed the ledge with his eyes, internally listing his possibilities. If he could somehow get up there, he’d be decently hidden from sight and would have a free line of fire for his sling. As he searched for a way to get there, Henry spotted a narrow tunnel, less than five feet wide, that led directly onto the ledge. That was it – he needed to find a way to get up there.

As swiftly as he could without making too much noise he fled the entryway and returned to the cave with the four tunnels. He began searching them one by one, hurrying as much as he could afford, for he knew his – or rather Thanatos’ – time was limited.

In the second one he finally found a tiny side tunnel that led upward in the correct direction. Henry struggled to climb up and cursed as he nearly fell, his sandals weren’t made for long or arduous trips on foot. The straps were cutting into his toes and the soles were slipping on the smooth stone floor. But he could not get rid of them, or he feared the rubble scattered on the floor would injure him. Sullenly, Henry shook his head and pulled himself up. This was not the time to fall or complain.

When he finally reached the top, he saw it ended in a small cave with a sizable exit in form of a gaping black hole to his left. As he turned his head, he further spotted the entry to his target cave.

Henry rejoiced, but quickly found he had a different problem. He stared down the nigh vertical shaft and asked himself how he was supposed to get down. Had he been allowed to make noise, Henry could have easily dropped, as it was only around eight feet deep, but he knew any landing sound would alert all rats in the cave below.

Henry kneeled in front of the shaft and could now hear the speech below was still going, but he knew it wouldn’t for much longer. As he scanned his surroundings for a quieter way to get down, his gaze fell on a tall stalactite, directly in front of the entrance. Without further ado, he untied the longest belt he had and strapped it around the pillar.

Insistently hoping it would hold, he slowly lowered himself down the tight shaft. His belt wasn’t long enough to reach the ledge, but he was low enough so that he only had to jump a few feet. He managed to land softly, on all fours, and the rats, who focused on their leader and the bat, did not notice him.

Thanatos’ ears, on the other hand, twitched, that much he could make out. The flier’s eyes opened, he fixated on the location of the noise and Henry made out surprise and confusion in his gaze. He frantically tried to signal him to not give him away, and Thanatos seemed to understand so much he averted his eyes and instead, looked at the black rat who was still giving his speech.

Henry arranged himself on the ledge, it was narrower than he had thought, and he had to kneel to feel safe. He took a deep breath, attempting to steady his hands, before taking out the first of the eight stones he had. After quickly scanning his surroundings he discerned there were none up here, so he would have to make each shot count.

He finally turned his attention down, briefly analyzing the scene, and a plan formed in his head. If he shot both rats who were holding Thanatos immediately after another, the flier should have a relatively good chance to lift off. If he managed that, his chances at survival rose exponentially, so that was the goal.

Henry released the breath he had been holding, to take in the silence – the speech was finished. The crowd below soon started cheering frantically, and Henry knew this was his chance, they were more than ever distracted. He loaded his sling, internally counted to three, and shot.

The first stone struck the black leader rat out of nowhere. Henry’s shot hit directly between his eyes and he dropped like a rock. The young prince used the moment of shocked silence that followed his hit to drop the second rat as well.

As soon as his wings were free, Thanatos did exactly what Henry had hoped – faster than anyone should be able to, in his condition, he lifted off and was soon flying circles near the ceiling of the cave, which was still not high enough to escape the claws of the best jumpers among the rats. Henry had to use two more of his stones to prevent leaping gnawers from reaching him.

They couldn’t stay here, if they did, he’d soon run out of stones. And then what? The cave below had turned into a crazed sea of rats, seeking to kill both him and Thanatos relentlessly.

A way out – as he desperately scanned the room, unease rose in his chest as Henry realized he had failed to think his plan through to this point. His belt hung too high to pull himself up the way he had come, and how else would he –

Henry was so focused on himself he nearly fell off the ledge as Thanatos speeded past him. He barely made out what the flier now screamed, his voice distorted and drowned in the cries of the rats –

“JUMP!”

Henry froze. He should do... what? His gaze darted down, fixating the rim of the ledge, inches ahead, and the floor beneath, crawling with rats. His heartbeat elevated – and not from adrenaline.

Only a few days ago Henry would jump off such and far greater heights for fun. Now the thought of free-falling and depending on a bat to catch him made his throat lump with fear. In the same second, he wanted to slap himself for being a coward. His past self would have laughed at him had he known he, Henry, the Prince of Regalia, was now afraid of falling. Something he had known and loved ever since he could think.

Henry swallowed, angrily wiping his hands on his shirt, trying to steady his breathing. His gaze met Thanatos, then the rats below, and he knew there was no other way. They had already spotted him and he barely scrambled up to dodge a claw flung at him by a leaping gnawer.

Heaving and shaking, Henry found a stable spot to stand and pressed his back against the wall. He was barely able to even look down, how would he find the courage to jump? It will be alright, he told himself, this is Thanatos, he caught me last time, he’ll catch me again.

He tried not to think of the many times Ares had caught him, before he had let him fall, and how this flier was not his bond, not even his friend. He had no obligations towards Henry and no real reason to catch him at all. And yet, he would have to risk it.

With one last glance in the flier’s direction, Henry clenched his fists tighter around the belt clasps and jumped.


	5. Mutual Need

Thanatos caught him at the very last moment, mere seconds before Henry would have hit the ground, and the young prince was certain it had been on purpose. He desperately clung to the fur of the flier as they gained altitude.

Despite the bad condition Thanatos was in, Henry was certain he sensed a short, amused vibration run through the body of the flier like he was silently laughing. Of course he was.

Henry swallowed hard, trying to suppress tears of anger, so when he noticed the large, cream-colored gnawer leaping, it was almost too late. He only registered the wide-open mouth with the ginormous, saber-like teeth fly at them and knew there wasn’t enough time to draw his sling. Instead, he got a hold of one of the stones and tossed it directly into the rat’s mouth, catching it by surprise. It stopped its attack in mid-air and Thanatos turned so abruptly to dodge that Henry barely held on, cursing audibly.

“Not bad”, the young prince barely registered the quiet growl of the flier’s voice, but before he even had time to process he’d just complimented him, a sudden jolt nearly knocked him off Thanatos’ back again.

Henry caught a glimpse at the figure of the cream-colored rat he thought he’d put out of action, it had spat out the rock and dug a claw into one of Thanatos’ legs.

The bat cried in pain from both the claw in his leg and the following collision with the floor. Henry was forcefully flung off his back and a sharp pain jolted through his shoulder as he landed on it. The impact dazed him, his vision blurred and he remained exactly where he had landed, firmly convinced he hadn’t the strength to move anymore.

His entire body hurt and his head spun, all he wanted was to be home, in his bed, laughing at this strange nightmare. Henry closed his eyes, he wanted to wake up.

Instead, something violently yanked him up and when Henry opened his eyes again, the cream-colored gnawer had grabbed him by the collar, ready to dig his teeth into his neck. “You ruined our fun, human, now you DIE!!”

The hatred and anger in the rat’s hiss permeated Henry to the point where he physically felt it and he instinctively raised his hands to cover his face. That’s when he remembered the belt clasps. Inches away from the gnawer’s face he knew what he had to do – and he didn’t hesitate.

Henry clenched his right fist and rammed the pointy part of the clasp directly into the rat’s yellow glowing right eye – and it worked. The rat shrieked in pain and let go of him. Fueled by adrenaline and desperation, Henry managed to land on his feet and scan the room for Thanatos, dodging all claws and teeth out to strike him in the chaos that had now ensued.

Moments later his gaze met the skull-faced flier, digging his teeth into the neck of a short, dark grey rat, and he started stumbling in his direction. If he could get to Thanatos, he would be safe, Henry thought and ignored the aching of his body and the mist in his head as best he could. He only needed to make it to Thanatos.

As soon as he reached him, he instinctively positioned himself back to back with the flier and readied one of the last few stones he had for his slingshot. “We need to get out, NOW!”, Henry screamed as he dodged another claw.

Thanatos let out a high-pitched, harrowing battle cry, and threateningly spread his ginormous wings. “You shoot, I fly.” His voice was barely more than a hiss, but Henry had enough experience in facing battle at the side of a flier to know exactly what he meant.

The young prince nodded, frantically looking for a route out. As a massive grey rat leaped at them Thanatos ducked and Henry fired a stone to drop it, directly over the flier’s head. He instantly scrambled up on Thanatos’ back and shot his last stone at a gnawer who attempted to prevent them from taking off – then they were in the air.

A wave of relief engulfed him, as they flew, until the sensation was replaced by confusion. Thanatos wasn’t aiming for the great tunnel he had followed the two rats to. Instead, he was flying directly towards the spot where Henry had fired his first two stones from.

But before the young prince had time to voice any questions or concerns, Thanatos hissed “duck!” and dipped into the narrow shaft. In the blink of an eye, he pulled in his wings, using only the previously gained momentum to propel himself forward. Henry barely managed to do as he had said to not hit his head on the ceiling that he felt grazing the tips of his hair.

When they exited the tight opening, Thanatos landed on the floor, panting heavily from the battle. Henry saw in what condition the flier was, but he could also hear the battle cries of the rats, who had spread through the nearby tunnels in search of them. It would surely not take them long to find them.

“We need to go”, Henry urged while retrieving the belt he’d used to climb down, and attempting to assess the severity of the flier’s injuries. “They will soon find us. I’m pretty sure they can smell your blood.”

Thanatos hissed and clenched his jaw in pain, but nonetheless signaled Henry to mount up again. The flier shakily rose in the air and exited through the large tunnel that led away from the cave, and the prince on his back desperately tried to come up with a plan to escape. Thanatos was bleeding, which was their main problem. The rats would follow the lead of the blood directly to them.

Henry exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. It was not over. Still not over. He needed to do something about the bleeding or his rescue attempt would have been in vain. And that was not an option. Never.

They flew for about ten minutes when the tunnel crossed a different part of the river they had camped at earlier and Henry told Thanatos to land. “We need to do something about that bleeding of yours or they will follow us to the ends of the earth.” Not even the stubborn flier had a witty response to that, so he obeyed.

He landed, with little grace, on his stomach, immediately collapsing. Henry slid off his back, trying to quickly assess the severity of Thanatos’ injuries. What he saw instantly crushed his newly blossomed hopes.

How did he even lift himself in the air, in that condition, he thought, knowing they would not be able to move forward for much longer unless he found a way to patch Thanatos up – now.

He sighed and cautiously approached the flier, who retreated and hissed, as soon as he guessed what Henry was doing, anger and pride shining in his eyes. Where should he even start? Where did one usually start, in a situation like this? Henry eyed the flier up and down before making his decision – “Listen, you need to let me stitch that wing of yours”, that had to come first, he decided, eyeing the huge rip. “If you continue to fly like this you could damage it beyond repair. You’ll never fly again!”

Henry stared at the flier, fervently hoping it wasn’t too obvious he was fishing in murky waters. In truth, he had no idea what happened when a rip in a flier’s wing wasn’t tended to. But he needed to convince him somehow, and if anything, Henry most certainly knew the power of horror stories.

Thanatos growled in frustration and Henry had no idea if it had been his claim or the flier’s own common sense but somehow, something must have gotten through to him. “Do it”, the flier finally mumbled. His voice sounded offish and proud, but his eyes were misted with pain.

Henry sighed in relief and glanced around, expecting rats to emerge from any nearby opening, while fiddling with the clasp on the pocket at his belt. He had to hurry, their headstart hadn’t been that great. It was only going to protect them for so long.

He quickly took out the sewing kit, readied a needle with a thread, and desperately tried to remember the best way to do this.

“Did you ever even do this before?” Thanatos must have sensed his uncertainty.

“I... well, I think so... maybe... once...”, Henry mumbled, not looking at him. He could faintly remember Solovet having him practice on a dummy made of cloth when he had been around fourteen.

Thanatos gave a hiss of rejection and Henry sighed, “Look, I’m not particularly eager to do this either, but do we have a choice?”

Unable to deny the truth of his words the flier, at last, accepted his fate, reluctantly allowing Henry to sit next to him and hold the injured wing in a position that would allow him to stitch the rip.

Henry swallowed, trying to steady his hand. An image of Solovet flashed before his inner eye, how she had done it many times in front of him and Luxa, and he remembered something else – “I’ll need to clean the wound first. And I have no painkiller for you, so this’ll hurt”, he warned Thanatos and decided to rip off a piece of his shirt for the lack of other usable fabric. The thin silk tore easily, Henry washed it in the river and carefully proceeded to remove the dirt from the wound in the flier’s black wing.

Thanatos hissed through his clenched teeth but he held still. When Henry was done, he took up the needle again and recalled Solovet, the dummy, and the stitch pattern she had had him practice.

The flier had to use all of his remaining willpower not to move too much as the needle went in and out of his wing. After the first few stitches, Henry became more confident and therefore faster. It took him less than a minute to sew up the torn wing and, looking at his work in retrospect, he was even proud of it. It wasn’t the most beautiful needlework but it would do the job just fine.

When he turned to clean the wounds in Thanatos’ leg and side after finishing the wing, the flier didn’t object at all anymore. He simply let Henry proceed, and the young prince was eternally grateful for the lacking protest. He cleaned the sleeve he’d previously used for the sling and took it to cover the larger wound in Thanatos’ side. For the less severe cut tearing his leg he used the piece of shirt he’d taken to clean the wounds, after rinsing it thoroughly.

Finished, at last, Henry stared at his work and a wave of pride washed over him. Who’d have thought he would actually be able to do all this by himself? He would have relished his accomplishment longer, but then he remembered the lingering threat of rats and thought they should get moving now. All in all, it had taken him around five minutes to finish patching up the flier, which was really all the time they had.

“Should we cross the river in the hope the water will cover our tracks?”, Henry now asked, attempting to remove all traces of blood on the floor. Thanatos, who hadn’t spoken a single word since he had allowed Henry to stitch his wing, nodded. “It would be even better if you used the cloth you wrapped around my leg to mark the entries of nearby tunnels with the scent of my blood. It will confuse their noses. You can use a different piece to cover the wound.”

Henry nodded and tore off another piece of his shirt, infinitely glad it used to be long enough to reach the middle of his thighs. They’d still need more fabric soon – he made a mental note to go and look for his backpack as soon as he could.

Then he did as Thanatos said, throwing the blood-stained piece of fabric into the last tunnel entry. Luckily, there were as many as six of them leading away from the cave they were in. That should confuse the rats enough for the flier and Henry to escape for good.

When he returned to Thanatos, he caught a glimpse at a fishtail disappearing in the bat’s mouth and remembered the painful emptiness of his own stomach. As if he’d read his mind, Thanatos caught a second fish with astonishing ease and flung it at the young prince.

“There. You can eat on the fly.” He stood up, having finished his own meal. “The furious growling of your stomach could hardly be overheard”, he added in response to Henry’s bewildered expression.

Both of them quickly quenched their thirst with the water from the river, before Thanatos spread his wings, readying himself for liftoff. “Good, now hurry. I can already make out the screams of the rats, they will be here in a few minutes. Our distraction plan won’t work if they catch up to us so far they’ll see where we go with their eyes.” Henry nodded and peaked his ears but heard nothing. They must still be too far away for a human to hear, he thought, and finally picked up the fish Thanatos had caught for him.

Longingly, Henry glanced at the water, wishing he had a water bag of some sort to take some with him for later. But of course he didn’t, so he sighed, reluctantly accepting he would have to find a different water source later. He quickly climbed onto Thanatos’ back, who immediately flung himself in the air – with noticeably less trouble.

Henry stared out into the darkness as they flew, trying to make out shapes, but he found himself utterly blind after they had left the river behind. Thanatos had constantly been shifting from tunnel to tunnel, probably to even further confuse any possible pursuers, and Henry had given up on the idea of memorizing the lay of the land instantly.

Instead, he was now eyeing the fish Thanatos had caught for him, as best he could, and for the first time, he asked himself how he was supposed to eat it “on the fly”. He had no way of cooking it or making it consumable in any way.

“Eh, what exactly did you mean by “eat on the fly”?”, he finally asked Thanatos, after around five minutes of silence. “There are no available means to have it cooked!”

The flier let out what Henry believed to be a high-pitched laugh. “Did you seriously think you’d get the luxury of COOKING your food while running from the gnawers on their own land? Eat or starve, it’s your choice.”

“Wait, do you mean I should eat it... raw?” Henry stared at the cold dead fish in his lap with disgust.

Thanatos groaned. “What’s the matter, is the fine Prince of Regalia too good to quench his hunger with anything that has not been prepared by the best chef of the Underland and served to him on a silver platter? Not that it surprises me you’re used to this kind of treatment, but I’d honestly thought you smarter than to believe you could keep your royal standards up in the land of the gnawers.”

Henry froze. He had never told Thanatos of his origins or his status. His mind started reeling with panic, what would it entail for him, if the flier knew... “H... how did you...?” – “... find out who you are? Well, where did you think I went when I got captured by the rats? I always do research on the people I am forced to be around, and you would not believe how chatty the gnawers can be when they think nobody is listening.”

Henry’s mouth, which had been standing agape, shut. Well, there was the answer to the question as to why he had been out alone. But it did not resolve any of his freshly risen concerns. The young prince anxiously bit his lip, “How much... eh, what exactly do you know?” He had to find out if there was any point in trying to keep secrets from the flier.

“The essentials, I believe? They talked about Gorger getting Henry, the Prince of Regalia, to team up with him and lead the Overland-warrior from Sandwich’s Prophecy of Gray to the gnawers, in exchange for a promise of power and safety.”

“Hey, there’s a little more to it than that!”, Henry angrily hissed, yet the flier only shrugged. “I figured. Though it’ll probably interest you Gorger planned to kill you anyway, had your plan succeeded, to reign supreme over both territories.” Thanatos pondered for a moment, “And, I mean, I just assumed they talked about you since the odds of meeting two humans named Henry in the gnawers’ land at the same time are unreasonably low.”

Henry swallowed. And there goes the last bit of evidence I was a naive idiot, he thought bitterly. Ripred had called him a fool for believing the rats would share their power with him, and his insides writhed with anger when he had to admit the “gnawer beside” had been right all along.

He didn’t want Ripred to be right, he was an asshole. Henry’s eyes narrowed at the thought of the rat who had shown him up, pushed him at Gorger until he had stepped on his tail – _Go, go, go, go, stand with your friends!_

Henry didn’t know why the rat’s mockery had hurt so much, but the thought burned like hot iron. _Three-point arc, and this is no time to test my authority, pups! _I’m not a pup, he thought, clenching his jaw, and I’ll test the authority of anyone I want, ANY TIME I want. “Ripred can go to hell.”

Henry hadn’t even realized he had spoken the last part aloud until Thanatos’ ears twitched in surprise. “Did you just say “Ripred”?”, he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.

Henry groaned. “Yes, he... he was with us on the quest, the one with the Overland-warrior. He told me I was a fool to believe the rats would –”, then he froze, “Wait a second, how do you even know Ripred?”

Thanatos hummed. “Us outcasts know of each other most of the time, especially if it is someone as remarkable as the Raging Rat. We even worked together for a while, a few years ago, but then decided to part ways as neither of us is too eager for company. Still, he was one of the most reliable allies I ever had, over the course of living in the Dead Land.”

“He’s an asshole, is what he is”, Henry muttered, snorting dismissively, but before his inner eye, he saw the huge rat with the scar across his face flinging the sword out of his hand with a flicker of his tail. As much as it shamed him to admit this, a part of him was glad he’d never truly had to face the grey gnawer in battle.

“Well, I can’t really say you’re wrong. He has... well, let’s call it... his own type of charm. He went on a quest with you humans, you say?”, the flier hummed, “Not that it should surprise me much. Rumor has it he has a soft spot for your species, for some unexplainable reason. Though it’s hard to believe he has a soft spot for anything.”

Thanatos mumbled the last part more to himself and Henry silently agreed.

He couldn’t help biting his lip in dismay. Thinking of Ripred was the last thing he wanted now. But before he could forcefully tear his mind off the rat, he remembered something – “Ehh... for future reference, we should probably avoid crossing paths with him, he... might not be extremely happy to see me.”

The flier voiced a curious “Oh?” in response. Henry hesitated for a second, then confessed – “Well, I was working with Gorger, right? I knew he wanted Ripred dead, it’s well-known he wants Gorger’s crown and, you know... I kind of... maybe tried to kill him in his sleep at some point...?”

Henry didn’t know what reaction to expect, but most certainly not the short laughing fit that nearly caused the bat to run into the opposing wall. “Oho... and you are still breathing, even standing? Well, that is what I call destiny being certain whether you should live or die!”

Henry didn’t respond immediately. The memory of that night had brought back fear of what this flier might think of him, for working with the rats. What if... he didn’t want a traitor for an ally? Henry shook his head in irritation. Prematurely jumping to conclusions wouldn’t help him now. He should just ask straight-out if he wanted to know.

He hesitantly cleared his throat – “Okay, now that you know what I did and why I can’t go back to where I came from...”, Henry interrupted himself, shifting nervously. “... what am I going to do about it?” The flier had a curious talent for guessing his thoughts. “Nothing.”

“What?” The young prince exclaimed in surprise, but the flier elaborated, “Well, first of all”, he paused for a moment, as if carefully considering his words, “as you already said, all the information I currently have is a handful scattered rumors spread by rats. It would be far from fair to judge you on that base.”

Henry opened his mouth to reply but failed to think of anything to say. Instead, the flier continued – “Whatever it is you have done, I’ll assume you’ve had your reasons. You don’t seem the type to practice vile or malicious behavior for fun. At least not... that kind.” Henry thought he suppressed laughter. “And besides”, Thanatos paused to let his words sink in, “It’s not really my place to judge anyone who ends up stranded out here regardless, not if I expect the same courtesy from them.”

Henry blinked a couple times, processing what he had just said, before humming in approval. “You could... say that.”

The flier remained silent and Henry was infinitely glad he did not ask for details, almost as glad as he was about his promise not to judge. But the announcement had nonetheless left a somewhat bitter aftertaste. Thanatos had made the price for his open-mindedness clear – he would not talk about his own past, about where he had come from, or how he had ended up out here, either.

Henry clenched his jaw frustratedly, he wanted to know. Yes, he understood the desire to leave the past in the past, but the flier had pried into his own without asking. It was not fair.

Before he could indulge in the bitter thoughts any longer, Thanatos spoke on – “And besides, traitor or no traitor, I take it your experiences over the last few days were enough for you to have learned your lesson?”

The wave of guilt he had wanted so desperately to suppress hit him once more and Henry gave a nod. “I feel like such a fool”, he mumbled. Immediately, he wanted to slap himself for showing such a clear sign of weakness as self-doubt. Throughout the fight against the rats and their conversation now, he had nearly forgotten he wasn’t talking to a friend, even an ally. He was talking to a bat who planned to dump him in the Dead Land, as soon as they got out of the gnawers’ territories.

Surprisingly enough, Thanatos didn’t answer at all and they continued to fly in silence. Henry kept on mindlessly poking the fish with one of the belt clasps he still gripped in his hands. His stomach ached from hunger and over the course of the flight, he began seriously considering eating it raw.

Then again, he was desperate – but not THAT desperate. Not yet.

Around fifteen minutes later, Thanatos landed on a ledge that was around five feet high and hidden away in a narrow side cave, that could be reached through a considerably larger cavern with several exits.

Henry’s eyes had gotten used to the darkness, that had followed them ever since they had left the river behind, but he still could barely see anything and it made him anxious.

“I’ll warn you, should danger arise”, Thanatos mumbled while stretching his, still most likely hurting, wing.

Henry disliked being so dependent on the flier to warn him but it wasn’t like he had a choice. He mounted down absentmindedly, still fiddling around with the fish, when Thanatos apparently had had enough.

Henry let out a sharp cry as the bat suddenly knocked him off his feet, pressing a wing to Henry’s neck, hissing – “You either eat now, or you give the fish to me, YOUR CHOICE!”

Henry stared into Thanatos’ furious eyes, and it dawned on him the flier’s own hunger was most likely far from quenched, and hard to restrain, with food so close by.

The young prince swallowed, struggling to push his wing away, glaring at the bat furiously. “Alright, alright, I’ll... try it.”

The flier reluctantly let him go and Henry sat up, theatrically dusting off his shoulder, getting a hold of the fish. Well, he didn’t have a choice in this anymore.

His insides writhed in disgust when he peeled off the skin and took the first bite. The raw fish was cold, mushy, and had an intense taste, but as soon as he started eating, he wasn’t able to stop until he had finished the entire fish. Afterward, he’d have given anything for some water to wash the strong, lingering taste from his mouth, but of course, they didn’t have any.

Thanatos had found a spot to hang from, directly over the ledge, and as he rested, he was still keeping his ears pointed to keep careful watch for rats. After Henry had finished his meal, they sat in silence for a while and the young prince considered just going to sleep.

Thanatos’ wounds were far more severe, but now his own body began complaining about every tiny scratch, every bruise, and every stiff and sore muscle as well. He was not used to being in physical pain like this, it gnawed away at him, not allowing a single moment of comfort. Henry shortly began wondering if, after a while, one could get used to it. If he lived out here long enough, would he stop caring? Would this kind of pain become normality?

Henry sighed, wishing that day to come sooner rather than later. He was overwhelmingly exhausted from the battle and the previous ordeals, yet he didn’t know if his mind would let him sleep.

Ever since Thanatos had uttered his –_ that is what I call destiny being certain whether you should live or die_, the Prophecy of Gray had returned to his thoughts, and how he still wasn’t sure what it meant or what it expected of him.

“What in the world are you sitting around there for, sleep, for goodness sake. We can’t stay here forever.” Thanatos’ clear yet quiet voice disrupted the silent darkness. Henry jerked around to him and sighed, “I can’t calm my thoughts”, he admitted, leaning back against the cold stone wall, closing his eyes.

“Why?” There was a somewhat mocking undertone in the flier’s voice this time. “Scared I might not warn you on time if the rats decide to pay us a visit?”

That had not originally been on Henry’s mind but it immediately added to his worries. The young prince forcefully swallowed – “No, it’s something else.” He tried eyeing the flier, pondering whether he should ask him for his opinion.

Thanatos groaned. “Shoot away, you won’t be able to sleep anyway unless you get it off your chest, will you?” Henry shook his head – not that anyone could see it, in the dark. A second opinion could never hurt.

“Remember how I told you I was traveling with the warrior from the Prophecy of Gray?” – “Hmm”, was all the response he got. “Well, I... I know it may sound stupid to someone with no allegiance to the humans and Sandwich’s legacy, but it bothers me how I still don’t understand it entirely, the prophecy I mean, even though it’s already happened. There was this one part, that... Well, it doesn’t make sense. You said –”, Henry paused and thought his next words through carefully, recalling the exact wording of the Prophecy. “– you said earlier that destiny obviously must have wanted me to live. The interesting part is, the Prophecy didn’t.”

Thanatos had listened quietly but when Henry was finished, he made a surprised noise. “Oh really? Why are you so sure?”

Henry thought it over and, in truth, he had to admit he didn’t know. It was just the only interpretation he could come up with.

That was what he told the flier as well, and proceeded to recite the last stanza, explaining how he suspected it had played out. How he had decided where he stood – with the rats. Hesitantly, he further spoke of how he had not taken care where he had leaped, he had expected his bond Ares to catch him, and Ares had saved Gregor, the warrior, instead.

“As life may be death, and death life again reaps”, he cited the last, most cryptic, line of them all. It still made no sense. Not with him being alive. “Do you see what I mean? I am – I was supposed to be – the last who will die. The one whose death reaped, saved, the life of the others”, he explained the apparent meaning of the last line.

Thanatos was quiet for a second, then he suddenly hummed in excitement. “Yes, yes, except... what if you’re wrong?” Henry turned his way, confused, and the flier sensed his gaze even in the dark. “I mean, what if you are wrong about the last line. What if it wasn’t your death that reaped their lives, what if...”, he hesitated, “Death reaped YOUR life...?”

His words grew Henry’s confusion. He furrowed his brows, “How does that make any sense? The word “reap” means “save” here, and death can’t save anyone’s life, that’s ridiculous, wasn’t it you, who...?”

Then it clicked.

“...YOU!”, Henry had to keep it together to not scream in excitement, “You! YOU are Death, your name is Thanatos – Death, the Death that saved – reaped my life...!”

A satisfied hum came from the flier’s direction. “I am the Death that reaped your life.”

Henry’s head was spinning as he allowed the words to sink in. Thanatos was the death that had reaped his life. He had never been supposed to die to save anyone, no, he was the one who would be saved.

It all made so much sense, now that he understood, and it was as if a huge weight of uncertainty had been lifted off his chest. He had never been supposed to die.

Henry slowly rose, in preparation to finally lie down and sleep, but Thanatos was apparently not done yet. “As enlightening as all of this is, maybe there’s more to it”, he continued shortly. “We should go over that stanza systematically, only that way we can attempt to figure out what else it might tell us.”

Henry froze in his tracks and raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Yeah, but... you... why are you so invested in this? Like, I genuinely thought you wouldn’t give anything on prophecies.”

Thanatos laughed. “Because I’m an outcast? I can’t really say that’s an unjustified assumption, but I too was part of civilization once.” He paused as if he had to verify the truth of his own words. “I’ve had to do with prophecies before, is what I mean. And while I don’t usually care much for them, this one here seems interesting, even from an outsider’s perspective. So, you in?”

Henry joined in his laugh and shrugged. “If you think you can decipher it, please, go ahead, knock yourself out.” The flier disregarded his mocking tone, instead had Henry repeat the stanza a couple times until he had memorized it.

“The last who will die”, he pondered, “must decide where he stands.” – “I thought that was me”, Henry mumbled, “but –”, the flier interrupted him – “It might still be you. In fact, I strongly suspect it is.”

“What? I didn’t die, I thought we established that.”

“Well, not literally, you didn’t.” Henry frowned, but the flier elaborated – “You may be alive, but in some regard, you died. Symbolically only, but still – in the eyes of everyone present that day, you are dead, right?”

Henry lowered his gaze, silently acknowledging the truth in his words. Nobody would have seen Thanatos catch him, of course. By that point, even Ares with Gregor had been out of sight. They had to all assume he had fallen to his death. “Yeah...”

“And then there is the curious choice of wording in the phrase “must decide where he stands” to consider.” Henry tilted his head, “Well, I decided where I stood when I sided with the rats, right? I don’t think there’s much room for interpretation there...”

“Okay, but if that is so clear, why does it say “must decide” and not “has decided”?”, Thanatos shot back and Henry opened his mouth before closing it again, speechless. “You...” – “If it were referring to your betrayal, it would not be formulated as if the choice was still to be made in the future, would it now?”

Henry blinked into the darkness, letting the words sink in. “Then... what is it supposed to mean?” At this point, he could just as well throw overboard all he thought he had figured out about the last stanza.

Thanatos sighed. “Perhaps it means exactly that – your true choice hasn’t been made yet. I mean, who knows? Maybe it is trying to tell you this, here and now, is part of your destiny. That it was meant to happen, that you are meant to be here.”

“You...”, Henry’s mind was in chaos, “You... mean to say all of this was foreseen by Sandwich? That I was... MEANT to end up out here, to still make some sort of choice?”

Thanatos nodded. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

Henry opened his mouth to say something but failed to phrase his reeling thoughts into words. If the flier was right, it meant it was his destiny to be here now. Here... in this no-mans-land, far from home and family.

Before he could ask what this apparent choice he had to still make could be, the flier continued – “The fate of the eight is contained in his hands”, he hesitated, “I’m not sure if there is anything to be gained out of that line at the current moment, to be honest. It refers to your fellow travelers, right? Though in what way their lives were in your hands, eludes me.”

“Yeah...” Henry tilted his head, “I betrayed them yet they all live. My actions had no impact on that.”

“Let’s... come back to that one”, the flier mumbled and moved on, “So bid him take care, bid him look where he leaps – that one should be fairly clear. It is most likely as you explained earlier.”

“How Ares didn’t save me, yeah”, Henry mumbled, and after a short, awkward pause, Thanatos continued – “As life may be death, and death life again reaps.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, allowing the words to sink in. “That’s... you, right?”, Henry at last spoke, “You are the Death that reaped my life...”

Thanatos hummed approvingly. “Yes. However...”, he hesitated for a moment, “Maybe there is even more to it. Consider the meaning of the word “reap” in this context – you would assume it is meant to be understood synonymously to “save”, but it could further mean “take” a life, right?”

Henry hummed in approval, opening his mouth to reply, but Thanatos simply continued, so taken up by his own train of thought he waited not for any input from the prince – “You all might have underestimated the meaning of “reap”. It is a strange word to use as simply a synonym for “save”, is it not?”

Henry blinked a couple times, then nodded. “I... guess.” Nobody had ever really questioned that choice of word, not that he remembered at least, yet he thought the flier could be onto something.

“To me, the question arises as to why it was chosen.” Thanatos pondered for a moment, “You know, it might have to do with how you, in a way, both lived and died at the same time. You know, literal life and symbolic death.”

“So, you say it might be used deliberately, to convey that double meaning?”, Henry frowned as he attempted to sort all of the newly gained insights in his head. “I died, yet I was also saved...”

Thanatos hummed approvingly and Henry slowly relaxed, back pressed against the cold stone, and shook his head. Whether it was in disbelief or in an attempt to process the overwhelming flood of new information he couldn’t have said.

If the flier was right, that meant in Sandwich’s books everything was going as planned, still. Henry found it hard to imagine, then again, nobody had ever understood this last stanza properly, and the way Thanatos had interpreted it made much sense. He found himself more than inclined to believe him.

Therefore, if you looked at it under the assumption this was indeed how it was supposed to be understood and Sandwich had foreseen everything – did that mean Henry would survive? At least until he had made whatever choice he was supposed to make? Or could he not afford to draw any conclusions regarding the time of his death from the simple fact Sandwich had foreseen him ending up out here?

His sister Nerissa appeared before his inner eye. The memory of her stung bittersweet, like everything from his, yes, it would be appropriate to call it his past life. Her narrow face, the round, fearful eyes, her quiet voice, talking of great evil, and the last words she had told him, on the day he had left for the quest, in response to his “I have no plans to die” –

_There are evils beyond death_, she had warned, and as always, Henry now understood she had been right. He bit his lip, did she know where he was now? Had she known all along? Had she foreseen it too?

Henry was silent for a while, contemplating his sister’s words and the realizations from earlier. Then he decided there was one more thing he needed to know. “Alright, but in that case, if you were truly meant to save me by Prophecy, I need to know the reason.”

“What?” The flier sounded somewhat displeased by the question. Henry sighed. “I need to know WHY you saved me. There has to be a reason, I mean – you didn’t know anything about me, not why I fell, nor what I had done or who I was, yet you saved my life – twice. There has to be a reason.”

Thanatos grunted quietly. “Not really... it’s just... it seems we fliers have developed an instinct that commands us to save a falling human. To let them fall would be for us like it would be for you to let one of your own drown while holding a lifebelt.”

Henry furrowed his brows. His response seemed more than lackluster, especially with how it didn’t explain why the flier had come back for him later, to carry him out of the cave, but he decided not to press for more. It wasn’t like he didn’t see his point or anything, and, in some way, being compelled to save a life for its own sake sounded believable enough.

“Well, in that case...”, Henry swallowed, uttering the words was still hard for him. “Thank you.”

“Oh, I was waiting for that.”

Henry would have loved to punch him, but he would have missed in the darkness. Instead, he took a deep breath. “You know what, we do make a great team”, the young prince continued, purposely looking away from the flier, who seemed to instantly guess the intent behind his words. “Oh no no no, FORGET that idea, like, RIGHT NOW”, he hissed. “But you didn’t even hear me out!”, Henry frowned and shot back.

“Let me guess, you want me to take over the duty of protecting your little royal ass from now on, but FORGET IT. I already told you – I don’t do allies. Ever.”

Henry laughed. “Well, it would be me protecting YOUR ass too, or did you forget what would have become of you today, hadn’t I decided to ruin all that fun you had with the gnawers?” Thanatos growled. “You know, I actually had fun, believe it or not.”

“Yes, me too”, the young prince grinned, “busting parties of that sort is one of my favorite past-times.” His words were followed by laughter and to a passerby, they could have almost seemed like old friends. Almost.

“And besides, I’m not asking to be your friend or anything”, Henry continued after they had calmed down, “Yet we can both be useful to each other, we’ve proven that at this point. And as someone... wiser than I’d originally given him credit for, once said, mutual need is the strongest bond of all. Or... something along the lines.”

After a moment of silence that felt like an eternity, Thanatos responded, at last – “Oh, I am going to regret this, aren’t I?”


	6. Fair Trade

Henry and Thanatos spent about ten minutes discussing the boundaries and principles of their newly forged alliance. The first and most important rule they established was, that they weren’t bonds. Their lives weren’t one, they had no justifiable obligations towards the other in that regard, and when worst would come to worst they couldn’t expect the other to risk their life for them.

Henry found the rule fair, even though he had already sort of broken it when he had saved Thanatos from the rats earlier. But that had been before it had even been established and he decided not to bring it up. “We can profit from each other, that’s the whole deal, right?”

The flier nodded and Henry couldn’t suppress a smile. Wait until this “no strings attached”-alliance becomes more reliable than an actual bond. For the moment, he was pretty through with bonding in general. He felt no desire for it and found no comfort in the thought of ever having a bond again.

Considering how his last one had turned out, Henry found this attitude was thoroughly justified. Bonds are overrated, he thought, I’ll be better off on my own than committing to something like that ever again. And at that, he left it, deciding the topic wasn’t even worth dwelling on.

Eventually, Thanatos declared they both should get some sleep before they would leave for the Dead Land in a few hours. But now the young prince didn’t have to fear being left to his own devices there anymore.

They agreed to switch watch duty soon and Henry lied down first, trying to make it as comfortable as he could for himself, on the hard surface. When he had already closed his eyes, uncomfortably shifting to get into a slightly less miserable position, the flier suddenly whispered – “By the way, tough luck with your bond.”

Henry groaned “no shit”, squeezing his eyes shut. He didn’t want to be reminded of his bond... no, his former bond, ever. Though he of course had betrayed Ares first, and that’s what he told Thanatos too, who hummed in approval – “True, but still... I can’t imagine that making it any better for you.” Henry turned and nodded, unsure as to whether the flier could even see him. He was thankful for his understanding though, more than he would’ve ever admitted.

“Oh and...”, Thanatos added, after a prolonged period of silence, “... thank you... I guess. For today.”

Henry tore his eyes open in surprise, as he took in the words of his new ally. It must have been even harder for the proud flier to say than it had earlier been for Henry, and for some reason the fact he had said it at all, made him smile. “I owed you”, was all the young prince responded, and it was enough.

When Henry finally took over watch he decided to let Thanatos rest for as long as possible. He remembered all too well the flier was in a far worse physical condition than the prince and that he would have to carry Henry later, not the other way around – luckily.

While he was sitting in silent darkness, next to the peacefully sleeping flier, he tried hard to keep his senses peeled for any kind of movement, but it was not so simple. His eyes were essentially useless, and his hearing was lackluster, in comparison to that of Thanatos.

Henry found himself displeased with his own painfully obvious inferiority and decided to instead focus on something useful. Something like finally attempting to assess his new situation. He didn’t want to, but he eventually had to face it – where and what he now was.

Dying was off the table, so he would have to learn to live all over again. Here – in this foreign, treacherous environment he knew next to nothing about.

Henry swallowed, anxiously fiddling around with a pebble he had found on the ground, trying to suppress the uprising fear. It would not help him. Not now, not ever. He instead tried to think about how he could be far worse off than he was now, seriously injured, entirely alone, in captivity. The possibilities were nigh endless.

But he was none of those things. The thought automatically raised his spirits a little. Yes, he was out here now, far from home and family, and his situation was nowhere near optimal, but he would live. He had to.

Henry sighed, letting the thought sink in. He would live. But living had become significantly harder now. So much that he knew he would need to establish some ground rules. Rules that forbade exactly what he almost automatically did all the time – pondering on anything regarding the distant future. It was far too frighteningly unpredictable, in his current situation. Dwelling on it would only lead to imagining all kinds of horrific future scenarios that served no purpose besides pointlessly scaring him.

What would happen in a month, in a year, it did not concern him. It did not matter, he tried to convince himself. Fantasizing in that manner had become impractical, and he could not afford impracticality anymore.

For a moment he dwelled on that realization, attempting to imagine what kind of life it would be – a life purely consisting of practical matters and actions. Yet he found he was so used to the luxury he’d been spoiled with his entire life, he couldn’t even begin to grasp what that would entail, and found himself wondering how hard it would be to adjust.

As much as he would have to avoid thoughts of the future, Henry decided the same would have to go for his relentless thoughts of the past. They did him no good either, so they needed to stop. Anything – people, places, situations, things. It wouldn’t amount to anything, sitting around missing them, it would only make things harder. And if anything, he decided to make it his goal to keep his situation from getting worse, for now, was a good start.

Only the present exists, Henry painfully bit his lip. Nothing beyond that, no future, no past.

Something Luxa had told him after her parents had died flashed in his mind, something that had, at the time, shook him to his core – _Every morning when I wake up I will tell myself it will be the last day of my life. I will tell myself so many times until I believe it._

Back then, he had spent hours attempting to convince her to take it back, to not give up on life in that manner, yet now – Henry bit his lip, now it seemed almost... reasonable. If he convinced himself death was imminent he wouldn’t be surprised by it and maybe, one day, he’d even fear it less.

Making the rules had been easy, though following them proved to be harder than expected. His mind was unoccupied and so his thoughts kept aimlessly wandering back to his past – Regalia, Luxa’s joyful grin about another of his stupid jokes, then her face when she had found out about his betrayal. Vikus and his last “fly you high”, that Henry had not responded to, in anger about him leaving them with Ripred, and how that most likely had been the last time he’d ever see him.

Solovet, Mareth, his dead parents, and Luxa’s also dead uncle Hamnet, who hadn’t been his blood relative but had always been the idol he’d admired the most. He almost smiled when he recalled the day after his fifth birthday, for the first time, Hamnet had taken him to the arena for training. He had been the one to teach Henry how to hold a weapon, that same day.

The young prince squinted his eyes in agony as all those and more faces flooded his memory, clogged his head, and made his chest physically hurt with longing. He wanted to go back so badly, to when he had been five, he wanted to train with Hamnet again, to hear his amused laugh at how he had stumbled over his own feet and fallen, in an eager attempt to follow his instructions. He wanted to scrape his knees, to play pranks with Luxa, even the stupid, boring school lessons they had him sit through every day he wanted back now.

Only when Henry found his eyes had watered, he forced himself to snap out of it, angrily shaking his head. But as much as he attempted to tell himself reminiscing wouldn’t get him anywhere, shoving aside the thoughts of the past sent a shiver in fear of the unknown future and his own pending destiny down his spine.

Henry clenched his jaw. This was exactly what he had wanted to avoid, and here he was, immediately going against his own decision. He furrowed his brows, there had to be something – anything – to think about that wouldn’t break his rules.

After some consideration he decided thinking of things to do in the next few days would be a good place to start. Nothing to be afraid of there, just simple, practical plans, like a general course of action.

He ended up making a mental list of matters that needed to be taken care of as soon as possible, like retrieving his weapons, finding a sustainable source of water and food, and checking himself thoroughly for injuries.

Once more Henry wished he would have his backpack with the notebook and pencil he’d kept in it. In addition to writing down his to-do list, he thought maybe some doodling would have helped him distract himself.

Henry had always liked to draw, Luxa and Nerissa had frequently claimed he was really good at it, but to him, it was a means to express and mark down thoughts rather than an actual form of art he strived to perfect or improve. He had still basked in the compliments, of course.

Though, Henry shook his head, doodling now would be difficult, even if he had his notebook, with the darkness and all.

That’s the first thing we need to do, he decided. Retrieving his backpack and both his sword and dagger was the top priority. He needed actual weapons to be able to protect himself and his new ally more effectively – although he decided to keep the sling an option, as soon as he could take his sleeve back from Thanatos. It had served him well today, and, the more weapons he had to pick from, the better, he decided.

He further needed his dagger to cut fabric, leather, food, and really anything he would ever need to cut, and his backpack for the personal necessities he’d packed for the journey, as well as the whole group’s stash of fabric Ripred had had him carry.

Henry recalled his own offended reaction when first asked to carry something that wasn’t his, and his silent but apparent gratitude for how the scarred gnawer had not cared. If today had proven anything, then that they would need all the fabric they could possibly get.

When Henry ran out of things to plan, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his mind off of matters it shouldn’t be dwelling on, so he decided now was as good a time as ever to wake Thanatos. He’d at least not have his thoughts to himself anymore then.

The flier woke swiftly and when Henry asked for his condition, he claimed he was as ready for the trip to the Dead Land as he’d ever be. The young prince mounted up as soon as he cowered beside him, voicing his decision in the same breath – “Do you know how to get back to the bottom of the cliff I fell from?”

The question visibly startled Thanatos, and he shook his head in confusion. “I don’t know, maybe – I mean, I could probably find it again, but why in the world should I bother?” As they were already in the air, Henry explained the issue with his things, and the flier reluctantly agreed, acknowledging Henry would be better equipped for battle if he found his sword. The chance to get more fabric seemed reasonable enough as well, and so he concurred to find his way back to it.

It took them maybe half an hour of aimless flying until they finally reached the tunnel where they’d first spoken to each other. Thanatos was in a noticeably better condition than the day before, the patching of his wounds and the bit of sleep had worked miracles, and Henry felt re-gained strength and confidence in the way he flew. The young prince was almost happy for him, as Thanatos traversed the tunnel with ease. At least his regained energy made flying enjoyable again.

His rising mood only dropped when they flew out into the cave at the bottom of the cliff where everything had started, and his guts began writhing in disgust. Had Henry thought the smell bad last time, it now seemed nothing short of unbearable.

The horrid stench of death enveloped him entirely and he desperately tried to keep yesterday’s meal in. The sensation seeped into every crevice of his body, clung to his clothes and hair, and he attempted to hold his breath until he had torn off another piece of his shirt and wrapped it around his mouth and nose, to at least make the odor bearable.

Anxiously he tugged at the torn rim, his shirt was getting so short he would most likely not be able to do it again. But they would have more fabric when they found his backpack anyway, so he chased the worry.

Thanatos landed near where he had first picked Henry up, at the now almost dried out puddle of blood.

The young prince mounted down and took to igniting one of the corpses again – light to see and search. As soon as he could make out his surroundings, he went to look for the pile of rats he’d been buried in.

A couple minutes of aimless wandering in the horrific pit of death later he found the correct one. It took the prince and the flier around five minutes to dig to the bottom in a manner that would allow the retrieval of any possibly buried items. When Henry finally lowered himself in, he indeed spotted something – his sword stuck out in between two rat corpses and he managed to get it out, not without some struggle. Relief and happiness washed over him as he unsheathed his beloved sword and inspected the blade, that had remained in perfect condition.

Thanatos called for him to come out of the rat pile when Henry spotted something else on the ground. In the faint glimmer of the fire permeating the wall of corpses before him, his gaze met a golden ribbon on the floor, at his feet. Henry reached for it and retrieved a thin, intricately crafted ring of gold – his crown.

A lump suddenly clogged his throat as he threatened to once more break his newly established rules at the sight of the familiar item. The item that held so many memories and feelings, that now all seemed so far away they could have come from a different life – and in a way, they did.

He briefly considered just leaving it but, after short hesitation, picked it up and packed it away. Abandoning it here would feel wrong, even now. Henry knew he’d lost all privilege to wear it, not that he felt very compelled to in the first place. Not anymore. Maybe he’d find another use for it later, he thought and made a mental note not to open the pocket he’d stored it in mindlessly.

After searching the area from the air, flying close to the ground for around ten minutes, Thanatos managed to locate Henry’s backpack via echolocation. It had gotten jammed in a tight crevice, a little offside, and luckily no rat had fallen on top of it.

Henry was as happy about this find as he had been about the sword, and took the time to replace the cloth that covered his mouth with a larger and thicker one, that absorbed much more of the stench than the fabric from his thin, silken shirt. He made a mental note to swap out Thanatos’ bandages as well, as soon as they got out of this cave, but decided to wait, as this seemed not exactly a sanitary place to handle wounds.

Yet as much as they looked – Thanatos via echolocation, and Henry on foot, lighting more and more fires until the entire cave was dimly lit and the stench of death was slowly replaced by the pungent reek of burning flesh, they weren’t able to find his dagger. Out of all tools it had been the one Henry had missed the most and he persistently refused to leave until they’d find it.

“Maybe I lost it at the top of the cliff when I got dragged along with the rats?”, he pondered after meeting up with Thanatos again, after a fruitless ten-minute-long search. “Let’s fly up then. Whether we find it or not, it’s as good a place as any to leave the rat’s land”, Thanatos agreed and Henry mounted up, gripping his backpack by the last remaining handle and tugging at his sword, that he had strapped on his back again. “Ready?” Henry could have sworn he made out a mischievous undertone in the flier’s voice.

“Show me what you’ve got.” The young prince didn’t know whether he’d even meant it as a challenge, in that moment, but Thanatos took it for one. Seemingly faster than the speed of light, the skull-faced flier leaped up in the air.

As if to test how much of his original strength he’d already regained – and how well Henry had sewn together his wing – he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get to the top of the cliff, from where all the rats and Henry had fallen. Instead, he took his time, and, with something like surprise, the young prince realized he was performing maneuvers.

Thanatos shot through the air like a projectile, closing in on the cliff, nearly grazing the wall with his wings. He then flew several loopings, straightened himself out, and performed a zig-zag pattern upward, his body as vertical as the cliff.

Is he trying to make me fall off – Henry thought, amused at the attempt, easily holding on. His body was so used to riding a bat that none of the crazy stunts even phased him in the slightest. On the contrary, his body seemed to automatically assume a position that felt most natural with whatever the flier was doing and rolling with it.

Henry sensed the familiar wind in his hair and on his face and relished the freedom of flying. For the first time since the fall, he perceived he was properly smiling and in an old habit, Henry leaned back when Thanatos flew a narrow coiler, until he was lying down, feet dangling next to the flier’s face. He closed his eyes and could barely hold back a scream of joy.

Forgotten were his worries, his guilt, his fear – even the stench creeping up from below. Whatever Thanatos’ intentions were – whether he wanted to test his strength, annoy Henry, or just show off – the young prince didn’t care. He would relish it for as long as he could.

They must’ve spent an eternity, aimlessly flying above the same pit Henry had fallen into – only that time, he wasn’t scared.

It was refreshing, to be able to escape everything – and Henry surrendered himself to the moment. His fears, his regrets, his worries, and the fact that this flier was essentially a stranger, it all seemed so far away, all of a sudden. From the way they flew together, they could have just as well been bonds for their entire lives.

Before Henry had the time to dwell on the thought more, Thanatos finally landed at the top of the cliff. And just like that, the feelings of freedom and fearlessness vanished. The young prince had already opened his mouth to start complaining, but then he remembered the flier was still not in top shape. Far from it, even.

He panted heavily now, and Henry knew the exercise had exhausted him, though he further knew he’d never admit to it, so the young prince didn’t bother bringing it up. Instead, maybe it was time to be nice for once. “Not bad”, he spoke, sliding off of Thanatos’ back. “Have seen far better though, just you know.” He aborted the being-nice-plan as soon as he had come up with it and grinned, a little condescendingly.

Thanatos snorted. “Oh yeah? Well, know you did manage to exceed MY expectations – by not falling off.”

Henry chuckled at the attempted insult, and soon they were laughing together. “In all honesty, that was pretty awesome.” The young prince flicked at Thanatos’ ear, who didn’t dodge fast enough, and hissed, annoyed at himself for being too slow – “It was... okay, especially considering we’ve never properly flown together. At least you’re not a total rookie.”

Henry pressed his lips together, then opened his mouth to defend his pride, but soon closed it again without speaking. Temper tantrums wouldn’t help them in any way now.

It was strange to remain silent at an insult – in fact, he had been known for always being hot-headed and sharp-tongued, but the fall and the ordeals that had followed had taken their toll on him. Henry was tired, sore, and every inch of his body ached from sleeping on the hard floor he wasn’t accustomed to, and the battle with the rats. There was still a considerable amount of dried blood on him, that, together with sweat and who knew what else he’d smeared himself with, made his skin and clothes sticky and disgusting.

Henry carefully ran a hand through his hair and made a face as he wiped it on his shirt. His hair, usually always neatly tended to, tips just about reaching his chin, was now sticky and clumped, strands of it fell in his face, the rest stood in who knew what direction. He had dismissed it so far, but it had started to bother him more and more, as time went on.

Right about now, Henry would have given anything for a long, hot bath and the ability to change into a fresh set of clothes, but of course, that was impossible in his current situation.

“Well, as much fun as that was – I don’t see your precious dagger up here either”, Thanatos interrupted his thoughts, shooting him a somewhat amused glance. His dagger, right, that was far more important than the condition of his hair.

Henry shook the thoughts before looking up and around, as well as he could. Some of the light from below was reflected by the ceiling and lit the area dimly, not well enough to see decently though.

After performing a quick search on foot, he dejectedly returned to Thanatos – empty-handed. “But I NEED it!”, Henry tried to argue, “How am I supposed to cut any materials or food – with my sword?”

“Well, it’s not like I can do anything about it. And we have to leave soon”, Thanatos scoffed, visibly annoyed at the delay. There was further a suppressed nervous undertone in his voice, it had most likely been too long now, even for him, to have spent in the land of the rats.

“If you don’t come now, I will leave alone”, he tried to threaten but the young prince found it hard to believe anymore, especially after they had flown together so masterly. In response, Henry sighed. “One more sweep, okay? Down below I mean.” He glimpsed over the edge, desperately trying to spot something even though he knew it was ridiculous.

Thanatos hesitated for a moment, then readied himself for take-off – without Henry. “Alright, but for that, you have to jump.” The prince groaned at the mocking tone in his voice. He is doing this out of sheer spite, Henry swallowed, nervously eyeing the cliff he’d fallen from earlier, and that would have been his end, hadn’t Thanatos shown up.

“...Fine...” he mumbled, thinking he would have to face this ridiculous phobia he had developed eventually anyway. After a final glare at the flier, he took a deep breath to calm his nervously shaking hands – and jumped.

As he was free-falling Thanatos zoomed in on Henry, not far enough to catch him though. He soon started flying circles around him, too far to reach but close enough to see and hear.

“Are you kidding me?”, the young prince yelled, paddling around with his hands in the air, trying to somehow get closer to the flier, but in vain.

The fall was actually much shorter than he’d remembered, last time it had felt like an eternity, but now the ground with all its atrocities was already closing in on him and he started seriously getting nervous.

“Thanatos...?!”, Henry screamed, and while he did so, he crossed about half the distance to the ground. A single impulse of panic jolted through his body – if he would call the flier’s name again, he’d be dead before he’d have finished the word. So he resorted to the next best thing. As the ground zoomed in on him, Henry closed his eyes and screamed – “DEATH!”

In the very moment the word escaped his mouth, his fall was broken. The hard impact would certainly leave a few bruises, but Thanatos had swept in under him at the last second. Why does it not surprise me, Henry thought, relief washing over him, as he watched the ground fly by beneath them.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”, he hissed, still clinging to the flier’s fur more than he had to.

“A little bit.”

Henry groaned, making a mental note to get back at him for it. Someday. Somehow.

They were silent for a while, searching the area – Henry with his eyes, Thanatos with echolocation, but again, to no avail. When they circled around the middle of the gigantic cave, something else suddenly caught Henry’s eye. The body of a huge, silver-grey rat lied, sprawled out, among many others, but completely intact, in contrast to the ones he had fallen on.

Henry was about to tell Thanatos to land nearby, he wanted to take a closer look at the body, when the flier raised his voice first – “By the way, what did you call me earlier? You were screaming for me, weren’t you?”

The question caught Henry off guard, “You mean when you almost let me hit the floor after you asked me to jump?” Thanatos sounded a laugh and Henry twisted his neck to keep the body of the rat in sight – “I – ehm, could you maybe land first, like, close to that huge silver rat we just passed, I want to check something.”

Thanatos said nothing, presumably suppressing his curiosity, and did what Henry asked. He performed a swift hundred-and-eighty-degree turn and landed directly in front of the corpse of – yes, there was no doubt – it was former Rat King Gorger.

Even as Henry’s feet hit the floor and he began moving towards the corpse, Thanatos wouldn’t let go of his own question – “Well, what did you scream at me, earlier?”

For some reason, the young prince tensed up as he stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t really thought about it in that moment, but in a way, it had been the shortest way to say Thanatos’ name.

“Death”, he finally answered. “I called you... Death. Why? Something wrong with that?” He at last turned, defiantly glaring at the flier.

Thanatos pondered. “Death. Hm... I mean, I can’t say it’s an inaccurate name, by any means. It’s how the Prophecy refers to me, even.”

“And it’s, like, way shorter than the three-syllable-word Tha-na-tos. I’d have hit the ground by the time I would have finished screaming that”, Henry mumbled.

“Well, I usually don’t go for nicknames but that one is actually not too bad. And you’re right, it’s much shorter to scream.” There was a bit of mockery in that last part but Henry didn’t mind. Not this time.

“Anyway, what exactly did you want me to land for again?”, Thanatos then asked, visibly itching to get out of here as fast as possible. Henry pointed at the corpse of Gorger. “Do you know who that is?”

Thanatos followed the pointed finger with his gaze. “Is that the king?”

Henry nodded while stepping closer, inspecting the body. “He is the one who nearly killed me. He dragged me into the stream of running rats, personally.” The young prince slowly walked around the corpse of his former ally-turned-enemy, stopping near the head and staring down at the human crown, that had fallen off, presumably when Gorger had hit the floor. He considered picking it up, but what for? It wasn’t like his own. It held no memories. Not for Henry.

Then his eyes flashed to the half-open mouth of the dead rat king. The almost ten-inch long, razor-sharp gnawing teeth caught his attention, they reached far beyond the rat’s jaw and showed virtually no signs of wear. Instead, they shone in bright, seamless white.

As he stared at his defeated enemy, relishing the, admittedly undeserved, sensation of victory, an idea flashed in his mind – an image of... It was the craziest idea he’d had so far and he wasn’t even sure if it was going to work, but now that he’d had it, there was absolutely no way he wasn’t going to at least try.

Thanatos watched, intrigued, as Henry drew his sword. He raised it high in the air, above his head, simultaneously fixating the dead rat king’s skull sideways with his foot.

He was about to ask what the prince was doing when the sword whizzed down. It hit Gorger’s jaw with a horrible crack and split it in half. The entire part that held all four front teeth came off and proceeded to fall apart. One tooth broke off and rolled away, the others remained, with half of what used to be Gorger’s jaw.

Henry raised the sword again, splitting the piece of jaw in half once more, separating the longest tooth from the others. Then he kneeled down and eyed the result of his work. Perhaps he hadn’t thought his plan through entirely – there was no way he’d touch the gross remain with his hands, not while it still had pieces of flesh and fur on it.

He reluctantly took a cloth from his backpack and picked up the remaining tooth, with everything that still clung to it, and eyed his sword. Looks like he’d have to carve with it after all, at least for now.

Thanatos had almost forgotten he used to be in a hurry to get out of here, as he watched Henry. The young prince had sat down and proceeded to arduously remove all remaining flesh from the piece he’d cut off, using his sword. He then scratched away most of the softer substance on the tooth’s inside and hacked away some of the remaining jawbone. Soon, all that was left was the ten-inch-tooth of the former rat king, together with the root and a little piece of jaw.

Henry stared at his work with a mix of disgust and pride. He gripped the root with his right hand – still with the cloth around it – holding the tooth in the air, like a sword... or a dagger.

Thanatos’ eyes widened as he understood, and he found himself silently applauding the creativity. “I see you found a dagger”, he spoke, tilting his head to inspect the tooth. It was still nowhere near the state in which it could be used as a weapon or tool. There was no real tip, Henry would have to find a way to hone it and sharpen the edges. Not to mention it was pretty thin and unfit for use unless reinforced, but it was a start.

Henry eyed the tooth in his hand, then the rat king’s corpse in front of him. “It’s ironic he’ll help me after all, don’t you think? I’ll consider this the payment for my work. Besides, it’s a fair trade.”

Thanatos looked at him and spotted a mischievous smirk, unlike anything he had ever seen before. Suddenly, the flier asked himself if the horrific situation Henry was in at the moment had anything to do with it, and for the first time, he thought he might have caught a glimpse at how he must have been prior to the fall.

“Your life against a tooth”, he tilted his head, “Well, if you do find a way to turn it into a proper dagger, then probably.”


	7. Weak

“Get up, it’s time for patrol.”

Henry silently groaned. His first glimpse, after he opened his eyes, was at the wall beside him in the little corner of the cave he’d been sleeping in. He’d turned it into his bed, using as many cloths from the stash in his backpack as he could spare – their number had shrunken significantly over the last weeks – and yet it was still uncomfortable as ever.

He twitched, attempting to straighten his aching body, and pulled out a bothersome cloth from under his back, tossing it to the side.

Another day. The wall reflected ghastly patterns from the light of the nearby river and Henry admired them for a while. He had never realized nearly all natural water bodies seemed to harbor the glowing algae, yet he found himself eternally grateful for it now.

After what might have been minutes or hours he finally tore his gaze from the patterns to stare at the wall on his right and silently count the marks, even though he knew exactly how many it were.

He counted them every day.

Henry carefully ran his fingers over the marks, then reached for his pocket and pulled out the piece of chalk he’d found outside the cave. He carefully raised it and drew a new one – number twenty-nine. Another day, another great day to die, if life decided for it to be so.

“Henry, I swear to goodness if you don’t GET UP RIGHT NOW...!”

Silently cursing, he rolled around to finally face the nagging voice. “Then what? You’ll abandon me? As if.” He’d long given up on counting the times Thanatos had threatened to abandon him, over the last weeks. At some point, it had turned into a threat he had stopped being scared of.

The skull-faced flier now dropped from the ceiling to hover above him in an attempt to look menacing – a pretty successful attempt too, if Henry was being honest. His ginormous, black wings nearly reached from one side of the cave to the other, the white stain on his face glowed ghastly in the dim light from the river that bordered the cave, and his eyes shone fiery. “You know, one day I actually will”, he hissed through his teeth, “And then it’ll be too late.” With that, he pulled in his wings, turned away, and moved towards the river to catch breakfast and drink.

Henry rolled his eyes and slowly rose up. Twenty-nine days he’d now spent here, pining away in this dim and moisty cave. Then again, he could not even really say that, as they hardly did spend any time here, except to sleep and eat.

Henry vividly remembered the day Thanatos had taken him here, after leaving the rat’s land and the wretched cliff behind. He had explained he’d stayed here in the past at some point, before – for whatever reason was still a mystery to Henry – he had come to the land of the rats. He had been meaning to ask, but what difference did it make, in the end?

Henry, at last, managed to painfully pull himself to his feet. His body had still not entirely adjusted to the whole sleeping-on-the-floor-part and he had experienced constant pain from sore muscles or stiff joints, though at some point, it had become just another daily annoyance and he had stopped paying it much attention. Maybe this was what it felt like to get used to it. If it was, it was certainly not as relieving as he had expected.

Overall though, he had to admit, this place wasn’t bad at all. It had fresh water, light, and the river carried fish to eat. When he had first come here, Henry remembered asking himself if this was the same river that had aided them in the rat’s land. He, to this day, didn’t know, and it didn’t matter too much either. Not enough to ask, at least.

Henry had mindlessly stared at the streaming water, as he had often found himself doing recently, and jumped a little when something hit his leg before falling at his feet. Thanatos had flung a freshly caught fish at him that Henry reluctantly picked up, sat on the floor where he stood, and started eating.

Over the course of the weeks, he’d gotten used to the taste of raw fish, something he’d never thought he would. Then again, he had eaten nothing else since, as there was nothing available. To him, the fish had started to taste of nothing after a while, and even though it was the most boring diet of his life, it was better than starving. Maybe, he pondered, you could really get used to everything, with enough time.

After he finished the fish, he joined Thanatos at the river, quickly washing his face and filling the water bag from his backpack, drinking the entire thing, and filling it again to take with them. As he by now knew Thanatos, they’d be out for hours, probably the entire day, and he wanted to take as much water with him as he could.

While he prepared himself to leave, he watched the flier, who had, over the course of the last weeks, become so familiar, and yet had remained a stranger in a lot of ways. He’d now mostly recovered from his injuries, they had removed the last bandages and the stitch while ago, and Thanatos claimed he was in top shape again.

On one hand, Henry could not deny he was eternally grateful the flier had decided to ally himself with him. As much as he despised the thought, it was clear Thanatos was the only reason Henry was still alive, in more ways than he could count.

Though, on the other hand, he had turned out to be one of the most frustrating people Henry had ever been around, and, as a prince, Henry had met a lot of those. People with chores, with expectations, with lectures, people who had tried to control his life, even his thoughts. Thanatos outshone them all, and he was sure if he’d ask him, he would say the feeling was mutual.

Ever since they had arrived here, they had been constantly arguing. It seemed as if Thanatos was under the impression that – one, he was the boss, and two, it was the easiest thing in the world to turn your life upside down like Henry had been forced to, ever since he’d become an outcast. The flier had constantly either been criticizing him or trying to tell him what to do. At first, Henry hadn’t resisted much, in fear of breaking their alliance. So he had gritted his teeth and done what the flier said, as hard as it had been.

Soon, however, he found he had had enough. And when he had started talking back, the arguments had gotten even worse. Henry wouldn’t be exaggerating if he’d say there were times when he thought the flier hated him passionately, then again, he knew that couldn’t be all there was to it, or he would have abandoned him a long time ago. Yet, for some reason, he hadn’t. And there was no question more urgently burning on Henry’s mind then why.

He had wanted to ask many times, yet always hesitated, thinking it would just end in another argument. Over time he had learned to reduce the number of questions he asked in general to a minimum for the same reason.

When it came to his personal state, this was probably as much as he’d ever recover. The traumatizing experiences of the fall and the ordeal after had left their permanent marks, and he was still frequently plagued by nightmares of falling into an endless dark abyss or wading through a sea of blood and eventually drowning. He didn’t bother sharing the nightmares, or even admitting he suffered from them. There was nothing to be gained out of revealing a weakness like that.

His prediction had turned out correct – since he had become an outcast, he had found a majority of his actions and even his thoughts were guided by mere objective usefulness. At first, he had tried to retain at least some sort of standard, but that had turned out to be impractical and, in a lot of cases, simply impossible quickly. Accepting that had been an arduous process yet Henry thought it mostly lied behind him now.

Outcast. He pondered on the term, mindlessly twisting the spine of the fish he had eaten for breakfast. It was exactly what he was now, and yet Henry was unsure if the word had even settled in properly yet.

He had been a prince, virtually at the top of the hierarchy of his society, and even if he technically still was one, as that was a lifelong thing, he suddenly found himself at the very bottom. It was a new and scary feeling and one he didn’t necessarily liked thinking about too much. It wasn’t like he had a lot of time to think at all though, in recent times.

Thinking, he snorted. What luxury. Henry had neither had time to think, nor to do anything, really. Not to bathe properly, not to shave or cut his hair, that was getting annoyingly long. Most of the time he would tie it together, but it was getting so bothersome he was seriously considering just using his sword to cut it.

And while there was the river outside their cave, the water in it was freezing, and he feared he might catch a cold and die from lack of proper treatment if he used it to wash himself. He further had no access to any fresh clothes, and while that had irritated him for the first week or so, he’d gotten used to it eventually.

If he didn’t think about it too hard, it was fine – Henry had stopped counting the situations in which that phrase applied a long time ago.

And it wasn’t like he had the energy to worry about things like washing, cutting his hair, or shaving off the downy beard he’d grown over the last few weeks anyway. His day had been structured by a strict routine – wake up, eat breakfast, patrol, snack and drink on patrol, come back and eat dinner, and sleep again – there was no time for anything else. Thanatos never allowed him time for anything except breakfast before patrol and when they returned from it, he was usually so tired he fell asleep immediately after dinner.

Henry wasn’t complaining though. He was, to his own surprise, quite grateful for the clear structure. It allowed him little time to think, which was great as it made it easy to follow his own rules, concerning thinking about the past and future. And it made him feel like every day he woke up, there was something to do, a reason to get up. Without their routine, he didn’t know if he would have any reason at all.

And overall Henry was proud to say – he was getting by. And that better than his one-month-younger self would have ever expected.

Henry sighed and put on his jacket, that he’d taken off to sleep. He reached for one of the portions of dried fish he’d prepared earlier, wrapped it in a cloth, and stuffed it into his backpack, together with the water bag. For a second, he eyed the backpack suspiciously – would it hold? It had been on the brink of falling apart all this time, but somehow it still lived. Well, he’d see soon enough whether today was the day it would die.

He stood up, backpack in hand, and his gaze fell on the rest of his dried fish, in the corner. Henry found himself eternally grateful to have watched other people prepare food as much as he had, on their quest, and on other trips in the past. Now he’d at least managed to dry himself some fish.

It had still taken him a while to get it right as he had never prepared food with his own hands. But now it was make food or starve, and he had promised himself he wasn’t going to die that easily.

Henry tore his gaze away from the food and instead it met Gorger’s tooth, which lied near where he stored the rest of his things. He sighed silently, at the sight. At this point, he had given up hope to ever turn it into a useful tool. He had certainly tried – right when they had first come here, he’d washed and dried it, but when he had attempted to sharpen it with the sword that hadn’t turned out so easy, and, in fear of breaking the tooth, he had stopped trying.

Now it was nothing more than another stupid idea, constantly reminding him of his failure. Yet Henry refused to get rid of it entirely, as it still served as a trophy to remind him of Gorger’s death. Then again, looking at it made him feel more miserable than victorious.

As Henry realized he was doing it again, reminiscing, he forcefully silenced his thoughts to focus on the here and now. The patrol. The longer he took, the more irritated Thanatos would be, and he was not in the mood for an argument. So he, at last, shouldered his sword and jumped the river, in the direction where the flier was waiting, of course, impatiently.

“If you keep moving at that pace the rats will be here before we’ve even departed.” Thanatos rose from where he had lied down to wait for Henry. His voice sounded condescending and his eyes were nothing but narrow slits, glowing with furious amber.

“Why do we even have to go on patrol every day?”, Henry fired back while mounting up, reluctantly. “The rats never come to this border. There’s a reason why the border is HERE, and this land hasn’t been claimed yet. It’s DEAD. They’re probably not even here, as usual.”

Though Thanatos had dragged Henry with him on patrols along the border of the rat’s land, that lied closeby, every single day, they had hardly ever encountered enemies. Just a few crawlers and shiners, who both apparently had colonies nearby. But it was still better than sitting around doing nothing, and it had taught him the lays of this part of the Dead Land, which at least was useful. It still felt like a huge waste of energy, most of the time, but it wasn’t like he had anything else to do anyway, or any better ideas.

“You should be grateful they’re not here, or they would rip your big head off your shoulders”, Thanatos hissed as he leaped and lifted off. “And besides, it’s better we patrol and don’t encounter them, then we don’t patrol and they encounter us.”

Henry clenched his jaw. “You know what, you’re right. At least that way, I have something to do, except sitting around listening to you trying to boss me around all the time.” The day had only started and Henry was already in a bad mood.

“Oh yeah? Well, let me tell you then, the ACTUAL reason we’re doing this is because I would certainly go mad, sitting around, trying to hammer some sense into your spoiled royal brain all day!” That’s how it went the entire flight through the now familiar caverns. By the time they’d reached their first stop, Henry was worn out, tired, and frustrated to the core.

Thanatos had landed in a huge cave with eight tunnels leading in and out of it. It lied directly on the border between rat’s land and Dead Land, so they usually checked all of them. Henry the earthbound ones and Thanatos the ones above ground, three for each – as they excluded both the tunnel they usually entered through and left again.

Their prolonged argument had tired him out so much Henry found he was eternally grateful for the bit of quiet he got when separating briefly. He drew his sword and lit one of the makeshift torches he’d made from an elongated rock, a little bit of fabric, and some fish oil. It didn’t burn long and ranked low on the efficiency scale as it needed cloth, but it was all the light he had. Without proper fuel, he’d been left no choice but to improvise.

The torch lasted through the entire process of checking the tunnels and he discarded the fabric in a tunnel afterward before reluctantly meeting up with Thanatos, who was waiting for him, as always.

This time, neither of them said a word and Henry thanked heaven and earth for the borderline-peaceful silence.

Their second and third stops were similarly uneventful, so much so even Henry decided to sheath his weapon to eat and drink. They only passed a couple of shiners, who, at the sight of them, retreated immediately, their suppressed voices arguing in the distance.

Do Thanatos and I sound like them – Henry suddenly asked himself. He’d always looked down on the shiners, they weren’t strong or competent fighters, nor did they have any useful skills whatsoever, except their light. But they had torches for that, which were quieter and less gluttonous than the fireflies, who Henry had always found most obnoxious for their constant nagging and lacking intelligence.

Now look at me, aren’t I doing the same? The thought briefly crossed his mind, but then he decided Thanatos with his extraordinary attitude and demanding nature was just as much, if not more, to blame than he.

He’s the one always ordering me around, Henry thought and gritted his teeth. Their alliance had turned out so very different from what he’d expected. Then again, had he even gone into it with any expectations?

Henry didn’t know. All he knew was that it hadn’t been a great time so far, and there was no reason to believe anything would change in the near future. Yet he felt like he had no right to complain. It had served its purpose – it had kept them alive. The only remaining question was, whether it was worth the trouble.

Shortly before they reached their fourth stop, a shallow lake fed by two interconnecting rivers, Thanatos’ ears suddenly twitched and he took a sharp turn right, flying along the wall of the tunnel. The sudden movement had Henry grip his fur tighter and he opened his mouth to ask what the matter was when the flier dove out into the cave with the lake. He took another turn, continuing to hug the wall, and finally landed on a ledge, some ten feet above ground.

As soon as the flier landed, Henry slid off his back. “What are you –”, but Thanatos silenced him with a hit to the chest. Henry stumbled back, letting out a suppressed scream, and landed painfully on his backside. Angrily, he breathed in, ready to start complaining, when he noticed the flier was silently pointing down.

When the exiled prince glanced over the edge, he spotted why Thanatos had been so cautious. Henry inhaled sharply and retreated a little as he made out the silhouettes of maybe five rats, running along the wall of the giant cave. But when he narrowed his eyes to look closer, he made out they weren’t just running – they were hunting.

Henry could now make out a pair of crawlers, desperately moving their short legs in an attempt to escape the gnawers. One of them was missing two legs and seemed slower and weaker than the other, who had to drag it along.

Henry curiously watched, looking around for an escape the crawlers could be headed to, but saw nothing. Oh well, with so many rats on their tails, they were goners anyway. How would they even attempt to get away?

To his surprise, the two jumped into the water and began swimming across the lake. What idiots, Henry thought, shaking his head in amusement. The rats were much faster and better swimmers, even the crawlers must know that. Then again, they were crawlers, so he shouldn’t be too surprised about their lacking intellect.

The rats, of course, immediately followed them into the lake, howling and screaming insults, and it wouldn’t take long for them to reach the now desperately paddling crawlers.

“Ready?”

Henry had been so absorbed in the scene he hadn’t even noticed Thanatos next to him had prepared to take off. His wings were spread and his expression impatient.

Henry eyed him for a second, frowning in confusion – “What... do you mean, ready for what?” The flier growled, “To save them of course!”

“What?!” Henry widened his eyes. Not even for a second had he considered risking his own life in an attempt to save the crawlers, in fact, he’d written them off the moment he had seen who was chasing them.

Now, he shook his head at the flier. “Why in the world would we do that? The rats would kill us instantly, should they catch us. And it’s not like we’d get anything out of it either.”

That very moment the first gnawer caught up to the weaker one of the crawlers. He grabbed its leg and threw it up in the air, before catching it between his teeth and biting his head off. The crunch from its cracking shell sounded all the way to where the flier and Henry were hiding.

The other tried to desperately swim away but two other rats cornered it and he soon shared his friend’s fate. The rats collectively cheered and swum back to shore, one still audibly chewing on the remains of a crawler. “That’s what they get for trying to escape our prison”, one of the rats snarled as they slowly retreated back into the tunnel they had come from.

Thanatos beside him hissed, as soon as the rats had left. “You fool, we could have saved them, hadn’t you been asking too many questions at the wrong time!” With something like surprise, Henry registered the flier was shaking. With what? Surely not fear. Was he that angry? The exiled prince tore his eyes away from him. So what? He cared little for whether the flier was angry or not. He’d get over it eventually.

Instead, he took to climbing down from the ledge and Thanatos followed him, still visibly trembling. When Henry felt the flier’s burning gaze in his back he turned around, groaning. “Look, name me one good reason as to why we should have risked our lives for them”, he called. “They’re useless. Useless and weak. They wouldn’t have given us anything for saving them, for there is nothing they can give, right? What’s wrong with letting nature do its job by killing off the weak? It’s called natural selection, so get over it. We should leave, I’m hungry.”

The expression on Thanatos’ face was hostile but unreadable, his jaw was tightly clenched, yet his voice was calm when he spoke again – “Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be. You expect others to fight for you, but you’re not willing to fight for others unless you have something to gain out of it?”

“Of course I won’t stop others when they wish to fight for me. I’m not stupid, you know?”

The flier visibly stiffened up. He put on his ears and narrowed his eyes, his voice was but a quiet hiss – “Do you, in all honesty, believe that? Even after what you just said? It serves only as further proof as to how utterly FOOLISH you indeed are!”

Henry scoffed and turned away, “Whatever” – a fatal mistake. The blow came from behind and entirely unexpected, knocking him off his feet. Henry cried out and landed painfully on his backside, it hurt and his frustration boiled over. Nobody had the right to treat him like this!

But before he could get back up, Thanatos was above him – “Just LISTEN to yourself!”, the flier hung over him menacingly, his wings spread, one of his claws dug into Henry’s arm. “Do you have any idea how you sound? No, not just like a spoiled prince who has no grasp of reality whatsoever, this is beyond that. No wonder the only ones who wanted to ally themselves with you were the rats. And even those ditched you – not that I can blame them!”

Tears of frustration filled Henry’s eyes as he failed to shake the flier, whose grip tightened. The so fiercely hated, screaming feeling of helplessness began to engulf him, clutching his throat until he had trouble breathing, and his anger at the flier’s behavior, now and over the last weeks, threatened to boil over. Only when Thanatos released him at last, averting his gaze as if Henry was not even worth holding, he shakily rose to his feet.

There they stood, across each other, death glaring furiously – the great black bat with the white, skull-shaped mark on his face and the huge jagged scar, on his hind legs, with spread wings – and the teenage prince, who hadn’t taken kindly to the weeks without the opportunity to change clothes, bathe, or shave.

“You will stop it this instant!”, Henry yelled, failing to think of another way to make the flier stop. His words had hurt more than Henry would have ever admitted and he would not have it any longer. None of it.

Thanatos hissed louder, his entire body language oozing hostility. “The hell you talking to me like? I’m not your SERVANT, Your Royal Highness!” His words were dripping with sarcasm. “Apparently, your mother entirely neglected to teach you manners! Or perhaps she tried, and you were simply too stupid to learn!”

At the mention of his mother, Henry’s body stiffened. His thoughts flew back to the day he had been eight years old and playing in the nursery when a bunch of officials, among them Luxa’s parents, Vikus, and Solovet, had entered with stern and grieving faces. They had taken him and his six-year-old sister Nerissa and brought them to the High Hall, where the bodies of their parents had been laid out.

He remembered the tears of his sister and so many others, including Luxa’s father Nicolas, his uncle. He remembered walking up to his mother, tugging at her sleeve, begging her to get up, even though in the back of his head he had known, the moment he had first seen her and his father lying there, that she would never get up again.

He had barely spent time with his parents at all – his mother had constantly worked on her studies and his father had been busy with court business or had spent his time out fighting. Nurses and teachers had raised him and Nerissa, and not a single moment had passed, since the day they had died, that Henry hadn’t spent wishing he would have gotten the chance to get to know them better.

He had to keep it together to hold back the tears. In blind anger, he drew his sword and swung it at the flier, who dodged in the last second – “Don’t you DARE INSULT MY MOTHER, leave her out of this or you’re DEAD!”, he yelled, attacking over and over.

Finally, Thanatos managed to hit Henry’s hand with his wing, causing him to drop the weapon. The exiled prince cried in pain and the flier kicked the sword away. It clanked against the cave wall. “As if you’d even stand the slightest chance”, he hissed, “You’d be dead yourself long before you’d even manage to so much as scratch me.”

Thanatos then flung his own claw at Henry, knocking him over again. His fur stood on end and his teeth were bared. “And by the way, to make this clear”, he hissed, looming over the shaking prince, “I’m out. That’s it. This alliance is clearly not working. I’m not your damn babysitter – if you need someone to teach you manners, go find someone stupid enough to even try a lost cause like you.” He then turned from Henry and spread his wings to lift off.

The exiled prince was still dazed, dizzy from anger, and his backside hurt, when he processed what was happening. Panic lumped his throat and he managed to scramble up and run a few paces after the flier, but when he tried to call out, his voice wouldn’t obey him. This is not happening, he thought, as the last of Thanatos’ legs disappeared in a tunnel opening further ahead. It’s not happening.

Then, like in a trance, he watched Thanatos fly back into the cave, out of the same tunnel he’d just disappeared into. Henry blinked, surprised, but when he realized the flier had been forced back out and knocked down by a massive, brown rat, it was too late.

There was no time to leap for his sword, or even move a muscle. Panic jolted through him when a fierce blow to the head from behind knocked him out. The last thought, Henry managed to conceive, was, that they must have been too loud. The rats from earlier must have heard them.

Then he thought nothing anymore.


	8. Prisoners

The first thing Henry noticed when he came to, was the dull, throbbing pain in his head. Like something was trapped in his skull, attempting to beat its way out. Henry gritted his teeth and raised a hand to feel the spot. Fantastic, that would make for a huge bump, he thought and groaned.

“You hurt?”

Henry jerked up, almost hitting his head again, when a tiny voice spoke in his ear and he sensed small paws on his right arm. They instantly disappeared when he jolted up and the voice sounded a fearful shriek.

“What the –” He sat up properly now and raised his gaze to look around for the first time. Where even was he? The lake was nowhere to be seen, instead, Henry found himself in what appeared to be a sinkhole. It was nearly ten feet deep and fairly narrow, surrounded by smooth walls that left no opportunity to grab onto anything in a possible attempt to climb out. An image of the hole they’d found Gregor’s father in flashed in his mind and a shiver of nervousness ran down his spine.

“Shhhh... everything is okay, I’m sure he didn’t mean to scare you!” Henry jerked around when a voice spoke. It was a different one this time, quiet, even soothing. Though remarkably high-pitched, the voice sounded like it belonged to an elderly man.

Henry furrowed his brows and suspiciously fixated the source, a corner cloaked in shadow. There must be light, somewhere beyond the hole. It reflected back from the ceiling, illuminating his surroundings barely well enough to see shadowy shapes.

When his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, Henry could make out the figure of a rodent, squatting in the corner in question. A jolt of adrenaline reanimated his body and he immediately rose further. His right hand jolted upward, to where the handle of his sword normally was but it only grabbed air. Of course, he had lost it back at the lake. Henry was about to fall into panic when the figure slowly stepped closer and he froze in surprise when he made out it wasn’t a rat – it was a mouse.

“Calm your murderous instincts, they’re prisoners like us.”

Henry’s first thought, when he heard Thanatos’ voice behind him, was joy. He wasn’t entirely alone among strangers. His second thought was, that maybe he’d rather be. He didn’t even bother turning around to the flier. “Oh great, you’re here too.”

“Believe me, I’d much rather be ANYWHERE else right now. And not just because you’re here with me. Yes, that as well, but not just”, came the instant reply and Henry rolled his eyes. This was exactly what they needed, more arguing. Or... maybe not. Instead of firing back at Thanatos, he rather turned to the elderly nibbler, who hadn’t moved since. He squinted and made out light grey fur, a little long and ragged. From his face, a pair of black, pearly eyes inspected him, not hostile or aggressive, but almost... concerned.

“I’m sorry if she startled you, you have to forgive her, she is not yet old enough to understand”, he raised his voice again, shifting his weight uncomfortably from one leg to the other.

At first, Henry had no idea who he was referring to, but, as he took a step closer, he saw it – a tiny pink nose peeking over the shoulder of the elderly nibbler. Soon, an equally little snout and paws followed until the body of a baby mouse fully emerged from behind the senior one. Her body was all white and so small Henry would easily be able to hold her in one hand. Her eyes shone round and big of awe and excitement.

He stared at the young mouse for a second and tensed up. As if the situation wasn’t bad enough as it was, now he would have to deal with the baby as well. He didn’t necessarily have a good connection to kids, they were a mystery to him for the most part and he usually avoided them as well as he could. That wasn’t an option here though.

“It’s fine, no harm done”, Henry, at last, mumbled in the direction of the two nibblers and shrugged, taking a look around. It was just the four of them here, not like there was much room for more anyway. “I guess we’re all stuck here... together”, he concluded, reluctantly sitting down cross-legged. “Where... IS here anyway?”

The elderly nibbler raised his gaze at him and drew closer, with the baby still on his shoulder. His voice was dejected, the exiled prince thought he’d written them all off as dead – “I’m afraid we’re in the prison of the gnawers.”

Henry sighed, of course, his hunch had been correct. He knew how rat prisons looked like. His jaw clenched, how had it ever come this far? As the memory flooded back, he uncomfortably twitched – in shame. It had been so avoidable if you really thought about it. But no, he and Thanatos had had to go ahead and scream at each other after having narrowly avoided a flock of rats.

As Henry attempted to recall the argument, he found anger and frustration had left him entirely. All he felt was overwhelming fatigue, the still new sensation of regret, and the dull pain in his head, from where the rat had struck him.

His gaze darted to Thanatos and for a moment, he seriously considered apologizing, just to get it out of the way, but at the same time he thought he wouldn’t be able to take one more of the flier’s “told you so”‘s, not now. And he knew all too well it would come, would he give in and apologize now.

“I’m sorry to disturb, but I realized, we... we haven’t introduced ourselves yet. The fact that we are prisoners shouldn’t pose as an excuse to forget our manners”, the adult mouse’s voice interrupted his thoughts and Henry nearly jumped as he appeared at his side.

“You’re right”, the exiled prince admitted, thankful for the reason to postpone the apology. The nibbler gave something like a smile. “I’m Platonius”, he spoke. “And this is my granddaughter, Curie.”

“Henry”, the exiled prince replied, gesturing at the flier behind him, “And he’s Thanatos.” – “I can speak for myself, THANK YOU”, Thanatos hissed, though the exiled prince also heard suppressed pain in his voice.

Irritated, Henry turned to find the reason, and only as he inspected him closer, he saw the flier’s wings were shackled together with chains held down by heavy rocks. Rocks of the sort that none of them would ever be able to move with their bare hands.

Henry tensed up, recognizing he felt bad for not having checked on the flier earlier. “Are you alright?”, he finally asked, regarding how tightly Thanatos was tied, to the point where the chains left him barely enough leeway to breathe. Of course, from the rats’ point of view, it made sense to tie him down or he would easily escape, but for some reason, seeing Thanatos like this made him uncomfortable.

The flier did not look at him. “I’m fine.” He clearly wasn’t, but Henry decided to leave it for now. It was more likely for the earth to spontaneously crack open than for the proud flier to admit he was in pain. Instead, he turned back to the nibblers, and, in an attempt to further delay the inevitable apology, asked Platonius as to how he and his granddaughter had ended up here.

The elderly nibbler willingly talked. He and Curie had been out playing and had apparently wandered too close to the rat’s land, as they had soon stumbled upon a patrol of them. The rats had considered killing them on the spot, though decided against it for the sake of “later entertainment”, whatever that may have meant, Platonius revealed he had no idea.

They had escorted them here and thrown them into this hole, Platonius estimated around a day had passed, and the two had not been fed yet. When Henry asked for water, Platonius pointed at an already half-empty bowl in the corner.

As the exiled prince carried it over to quench his and Thanatos’ thirst he thought back to his last meal, the snack during patrol, and was infinitely glad he had had time to eat recently. He wasn’t hungry now, though he knew better than to think it would remain this way.

The next few hours passed silently, Henry spent most of his time motionlessly sitting, back against the wall, trying to occupy his mind so that it would not stray too far into the dangerous wilderness of speculation. Speculation on what might happen to them now, on what the rats were planning.

Henry had been told enough scary stories about the prisons of the gnawers as a child to have more than a few vivid images in his head of what they might do to them, and he did not wish to indulge in any of them for a moment longer than he absolutely had to.

Not long after they’d all fallen silent, Curie decided it was a good idea to curl up next to his leg and sleep. At first, he’d wanted to shoo her away, but then let her proceed. In a way, he found feeling the little body pressing against him helped keep the nightmarish thoughts at bay. They were still alive. And as long as he could help it, it would remain that way.

Thanatos was resting too, as well as he could, with the chains. He had stretched out next to Henry, constantly twitching in an attempt to get comfortable. Only now the exiled prince could see how truly miserable the flier was. His eyes were half-closed at all times and Henry heard his strained heaving, as he attempted to combat the heavy chains compressing his torso.

Platonius had collapsed near Henry’s other side and immediately fallen into a deep sleep, his choppy breaths mixed with those of Thanatos, filling the silence in the prison hole.

Henry must have fallen asleep himself, at some point. Only when he eventually woke from something tickling his nose, he registered he’d been asleep at all. The exhaustion and the lack of things to do must have done their part on him, he thought and opened his eyes, to find himself staring into the large, round eyes of Curie, only inches from his face. It had been her whiskers that had tickled him.

Henry blinked a couple times, confused, before rising up and hastily jerking away when he realized he’d sunken against Thanatos in his sleep. Contrary to his expectations, the flier didn’t react at all. He had apparently not noticed – or didn’t mind, though Henry had a strong suspicion it was the first one.

He still felt the tickle of Curie’s whiskers and tried hard not to sneeze, but in the end, the deafening noise joltingly woke everyone in the hole. All of them groaned in irritation, Thanatos fell over on his stomach and hissed. Only Curie giggled.

“Sorry”, Henry muttered, taking the baby mouse in his hand, and setting her down on the floor. “There you go, your grandpa’s over there.” He pointed at Platonius, but she kept staring up at him instead.

“Ganpa tired. I play!”, she called in reply and placed her tiny front paws on his crossed leg. “Henny play?”

Thanatos burst out in suppressed laughter at the way she pronounced his name, and Henry gave him a hefty nudge with his elbow, before turning his attention back on the baby. “No, I’m not in the mood to play.”

He insistently hoped she’d lose interest if he refused, but far from it. She instead ran over to Thanatos, nudging him as well. “Come play! Henny and Thansos play!” Now it was Henry’s turn to burst out laughing and all Thanatos could do about it was hiss at him, for he was still shackled.

“Come on, Curie, leave them alone”, Platonius beckoned her, “They are still tired”, and the little mouse indeed scurried over to him, but not without throwing multiple curious glances back.

Henry jumped as Thanatos rammed his head into his back. “Well, someone lied comfortably, didn’t he?” His voice was loaded with sarcasm and the exiled prince sighed – so he HAD noticed. “Look, it’s not my fault, okay? I didn’t even plan on sleeping.”

Surprisingly, the flier grunted silently, seemingly willing to leave the topic alone. Henry eyed him and suddenly remembered he still had something else to say. “Hey...”, he took a deep breath. Might as well get it over with now, it wouldn’t magically take care of itself.

“I’m... sorry, about earlier.” He didn’t look at the flier and closed his eyes in anticipation of mockery, “I didn’t mean to insult you or anything. I just didn’t see the point in –”

But Thanatos interrupted him, surprisingly non-sarcastic – “Sometimes I genuinely cannot believe in what kind of bubble you must’ve grown up. Like, did you even fully understand what you were saying?”

Henry gave his own words from back at the lake a conscious thought. The strong survived, the weak died out. He had never questioned that, regarded it a fact even, as for as long as he could remember, it had always been solidified.

“Yes”, he finally answered, still not looking at the flier. “Being strong means surviving, isn’t that a core principle of nature?” Thanatos sighed, “Well, I can’t say you’re wrong, not if you put it like that.” He paused for a second, presumably thinking of how to phrase his next words – “However, just because the strong can survive without help, that doesn’t strip the weak of the right to seek aid with them.”

Henry frowned. “But what do the strong get out of the whole thing? Sounds like a lousy deal to me.”

Thanatos groaned. “Has nobody ever taught you the simplest principles of communities? The strong help the weak, that’s one of the first things my mother ever taught me.” His voice was quiet. “They do it not for selfish reasons, but because they feel honor-bound to do so.”

Henry was silent for a while. Of course he had heard that before. Vikus talked of nothing more than of helping and making friends with the weak. That had been the main reason he had claimed Luxa’s grandfather was unfit to rule. To this day, he failed to see his point.

If that was truly how it worked, it was a faulty system. Henry bitterly clenched his jaw, “Why did nobody help my parents then, when they were killed?”, he exclaimed, voice dripping with fury.

Thanatos was silent at that.

“Or Luxa’s parents? Or all the others who died before my eyes, who I couldn’t save. Who I wasn’t strong enough to save. Were they not considered weak enough to have a claim to this “honor-bound” help?” Henry didn’t mean to cry, but tears had started to fill his eyes. “Why are the strong expected to make the sacrifice? What justifies it? So many I know have died, with those words on their lips, but for what? Can you tell me?

Thanatos didn’t respond for a while. He was silent for so long Henry thought he wouldn’t answer at all when he finally spoke – “I do not know what drove your loved ones into death. I do not know their stories. But I do know that, just because you’ve lost people, it doesn’t give you the right to doom others to the same fate.”

For the first time, Henry actually listened up. “What?”

“Those crawlers earlier”, Thanatos continued, “don’t you think they had families as well? Individuals who cared for them, and who suffered a loss when they died?”

It was hard to question something so deeply rooted within himself, but at that moment, Henry found he did exactly that.

“And if you still ask for a selfish reason to risk your life for someone weaker, there are plenty of those as well. Physical strength is not all one can give or contribute, you know? Those who are weaker and depend on protection will always find means to pay their saviors back. That’s what makes the deal fair, in the end. Everyone is different, Henry, and we all have different talents or wares to offer.”

The flier sounded agitated. “If you really think you wouldn’t have gained anything selfish out of saving those crawlers, you are an idiot. You do realize crawlers, like nibblers”, he pointed at Platonius and Curie with one of his ears, “are some of the closest trading partners to humans? You ever want to eat anything other than raw fish or get some proper fuel for torches? They’d probably have swamped you with the stuff for rescuing two of their kind.”

Henry blinked in surprise. That made well-enough sense. “Hey, why didn’t you tell me that earlier? We could have avoided this whole argument if you’d brought that up, back at the lake”, he called in the flier’s direction, mumbling to himself “I’d risk my life for the promise of food or torch-fuel any day...”

Thanatos let out a sharp “Ha!” and shook his head. “Dammit, that is one way to think, alright”, the flier mumbled and Henry was about to ask what that was supposed to mean, when he continued – “Well, I did not bring it up because, for one, I believe in saving lives for other reasons than material gain, and for the other, I thought you’d be aware of that. It honestly surprises me you weren’t.”

Henry sighed, biting his lip. “I have no idea how those things work, to be honest”, he admitted, without looking at the flier.

“Hm? You never had classes on economics or diplomacy or anything? Hard to believe for someone of your... standing.”

Henry shrugged, infinitely grateful he had chosen to leave out he was royalty in front of the nibblers. “Yeah, I did, but frankly, I slept through most of them.”

“As I imagine you did with the other classes too? Why does this not surprise me...”

“I could have easily been good at the lessons”, Henry shot back, in an attempt to defend his pride. “I just... didn’t feel like putting in the effort.” The flier scoffed, “Sure”, but, after that, left it alone.

Henry was admittedly happy he’d at least somewhat made up with Thanatos. It had been such a silly and avoidable argument and he was glad to have it out of the way for now. Though he inevitably asked himself how long the fragile peace between them would last this time.

Not long after Henry and Thanatos had fallen silent again, Curie began to whimper quietly, digging deeper into her grandfather’s fur. Henry thought she was probably starving and realized his own stomach had begun feeling uncomfortably empty as well. But, of course, they had no food. Not for him, not for her. He exchanged a glance with Thanatos, this would become problematic soon.

To distract at least Curie, Platonius sat down, let her climb on his shoulder, and started telling a story. It was a well-known fairytale about a heroic prince who wielded a magic sword and defeated the rat king, to save a beautiful princess. Not innovative or masterly by any means, but it did the job of distracting the little mouse.

Even Henry and Thanatos found themselves eagerly listening, as the tale went on, for it was the only semi-exciting thing happening. But Platonius was a great storyteller and he managed to convey the, somewhat unoriginal, cliché story in a fairly entertaining way.

Curie forgot her hunger and soon started excitedly kneading her grandfather’s shoulder, almost unable to sit still to listen. When the story was finished, she jumped down and started running in circles, squeaking something Henry couldn’t understand. But Platonius replied frequently, so her squeaks must make some sort of sense, at least to him.

Finally, she ran up to her grandfather again, excitedly exclaiming “I princess, aren’t I? I princess!” He laughed and caressed her head a few times. “Of course you are.” – “You are my ganpa-king?”, she then asked. Platonius smiled and nodded. “If you say so.”

Curie let out a high-pitched, happy squeal as she dashed over to Henry and Thanatos, who had watched the scene quietly, so far, not entirely sure what was going on. She approached the flier first, put her front paws on his head, and climbed up. “You are evil rat king, right?”

Thanatos made a confused noise, but she didn’t care. Instead, she jumped down again and climbed onto Henry’s lap, who attempted to not choke from laughter at the idea of Thanatos being a rat king.

“You are prince, right?”

Henry winced, glaring down at the baby. A... prince? A million alarms went off in his head, but as he looked down into her round, pleading eyes, he understood she’d meant it in the context of the fairytale she’d just heard. “Eh... I’m not a prince”, he uncomfortably averted his gaze. Whatever she was planning, he had no desire to be representing any fairytale prince. Not in the current moment, or any time soon.

“Oh pleeaasee!”, she continuously nudged his leg with her little nose. “You are great prince! You save me, you save princess!” Henry shifted and nervously swallowed, a little confused as to what exactly she wanted of him, before glancing at Platonius for help.

The elderly nibbler seemed both amused and a little embarrassed at the same time. “She wants you to play with her”, he hesitantly admitted. “You can take pride in the fact that she wants to make you the prince, she only does that with people she really likes!”

Henry’s gaze darted back down at her and he shook his head. “That’s... all nice and well, but... I’m not...” – “Oh, come on, please”, Platonius’ voice was pleading. “If we can’t keep her distracted, she’ll soon start crying and I’m sure none of you have much desire to hear the sound of a crying baby for the rest of our stay here.” He looked at both Thanatos and Henry, “Just... do her the favor. Please.”

“But I can’t...”, Henry tried to protest, but surprisingly, Thanatos interrupted him – “I can be a rat king, if I so have to, at least for a while.” The exiled prince jerked around to him, mouth open in protest, but the flier continued – “And consider this, Henry, you’ll get to kill me, even if it’s just pretend. Shouldn’t that be reason enough?”

Henry stared at him for a second, then his mouth snapped shut and he shrugged. “You know what, you’re right. That IS a good enough reason.” Curie’s face lit up and she started jumping up and down excitedly. “You play with me! You play with me!”

Henry sighed, resigning to his fate. “Yes, we’ll play with you.”

The next half an hour flew by the prisoners, as they reenacted the fairytale Platonius had told earlier, for Curie. Thanatos, with the help of the senior nibbler and Henry, lifted himself up, to be a more menacing rat king. He allowed the captured Princess Curie to sit on his head, pretending his ears were prison bars.

Henry had never seen him act the way he did around the baby mouse. His voice was quiet and soft, whenever he talked to her. He seemed like an entirely different person from the offish, blunt, and bossy no-bullshitter the exiled prince thought he had known by now.

But even Henry, after a bit of toing and froing about what exactly he was supposed to do and how, got immersed in the game. It took him back to his childhood when he would roleplay like this with Luxa and Nerissa, and occasionally some other kids. He’d always insisted on playing the villain though, while Luxa – or sometimes Howard – was the prince, and Nerissa or Stellovet the princess.

Now, valiant Prince Henry received the imaginary magic sword from the sacred river and went on the epic quest to save the beautiful princess from the evil rat king. Their battle was epic – though mostly imaginary, as Thanatos was barely able to move. At last, he struck the villain down, saving Princess Curie, who was so excited she had trouble staying in character.

Henry was about to walk over to King Platonius with little Curie on his shoulder to return her to her grandfather when Thanatos’ ears suddenly twitched and he uttered a suppressed hiss – “Rats.”

Curie voiced a mortified squeak and attempted to hide in Henry’s hair, who hastily twirled around to look. He squinted his eyes into the darkness and made out a construction, consisting of a stone plate hanging from two ropes, that had similarities to a simple elevator, being lowered into the pit. On it stood two gnawers.

“Time for you to play!”, one of them mocked and the other giggled, as they jumped down and cornered Henry, to force him towards the plate. As he reluctantly followed, they removed the boulders from the ends of the chains that tied Thanatos. The rats then loaded him onto the elevator, not without taking a few scratches from the furious bat, who apparently disliked being carried around. The nibblers they ignored completely.

“Actually, we WERE in the middle of playing, if you don’t mind, that interruption was rude”, Henry couldn’t help but hiss. It wasn’t like their situation could get any worse.

The gnawers proceeded to ignore him and soon Henry and Thanatos were lifted up and out of the hole. Curie’s scared and sad whimpers proceeded to follow them out, echoing through the eerie halls, long after they had left the pit behind.

Henry had no idea where the rats were taking them, when they led – or carried, in Thanatos’ case – the two through a series of tunnels, away from the prison pit.

After maybe five minutes of silent walking, the only notable sound consisting of the harrow echoing of their steps in the stone halls, Thanatos’ ears twitched. The exiled prince knew that meant he heard something, and he furrowed his brows, attempting to make anything out, but there was nothing, still.

The further they proceeded, the more Thanatos seemed to stiffen up, and Henry was on the verge of asking their captors for their destination when he made out a faint, distant noise. He didn’t know what it was at first, but as it amplified more and more he recognized – it was a crowd.

A million questions and thoughts at once clustered his mind, but before he could voice any of them, they were forced out of the mound of a tunnel into a brightly illuminated, giant cave. After his eyes had adjusted to the sudden light and he took his first look around, Henry froze up in the horrific realization as to what this place was – they found themselves in the center of a giant arena.

Henry’s jaw dropped and he took the sight in silently. If he would be to guess, he’d say at least a hundred rats were squatting around the circular arena, gawking down at where he and Thanatos were restrained. The cave was illuminated by maybe five lit braziers.

The rats had carved giant stair-like structures as bleachers into the walls, on which the spectators were sitting now. The ones furthest away from the center left barely enough space between floor and ceiling of the cave for a rat to stand, while the ones at the front were on ground level. Giant boulders had been either carried here or knocked out of the walls to serve as border between arena and audience. And the atmosphere – Henry frantically attempted to swallow the lump clogging his throat – the atmosphere was fantastic – they were all out for blood.

Only in the most vibrant of stories he had heard of places like this. They were horrific tales told by those who sought to give children nightmares. Of course, he himself had always loved them, unbeknownst to the fact he’d find himself in their very center someday.

Henry remembered an image of it on the wall of the old nursery, in the far back corner, the corner behind the stone turtle, that everyone had always avoided. It was an arena built by the gnawers, for prisoners they considered strong enough to give them a good show, to fight each other, or selected champions, to the death. In the tales, those who were victorious sometimes earned their freedom, those who weren’t –

“You there, you better give us a good show, or your death will not be swift, but painful and slow.” Henry winced as one of the rats who had brought them here hissed into his ear. As his gaze darted over to Thanatos, he saw the other had taken off his chains.

The exiled prince jumped again as something hit his foot, making a metallic noise – his sword! A wave of joy inundated him at the sight. The rats must have picked it up and brought it here for him. But the joy lasted not long – they of course only gave it to him so that he would last longer than two seconds against whatever they’d make him fight here, for their amusement.

He nonetheless kneeled down to pick it up, not without nervously biting his lip. In anticipation of battle, he anxiously started unsheathing it when a different voice sounded beside him – “We’ll crush them to dust, right?”

Henry looked back at the flier, oddly torn. Their relationship had been less than friendly in recent times, and even now, Henry wasn’t sure what terms they were on. Whether their argument was entirely over.

Further, they had never actually fought together before, and from experience, the exiled prince knew every flier was slightly different when it came to battle. It was usually not a good idea to fight with a flier you had never trained with – but they hardly had a choice now.

Henry gazed back at Thanatos, contemplating whether he should voice his concerns, but refrained from it as he spotted the crushingly strong resolve in his eyes. They may have never fought together, but they would do it now, he thought. Since when was he not comfortable with figuring things out on the fly anyway?

The flier’s determination reached and seeped into Henry and he even gave a smile, until he took a step closer and noticed in how miserable a shape Thanatos truly was, from the chains. His fur was clumped and there were visible marks from where he had been tied, some of them quietly oozing blood. The sandy ground beneath his claws had turned red from it.

“Will you be okay?”, he attempted to prevent the newly blossomed hope from withering away. If Thanatos was not doing well, they stood no chance, he knew that perfectly well. The flier nodded, instantly attempting to stand a little taller. “Of course. If you manage to not fall off, we won’t have any problems I don’t think.”

That even made the exiled prince laugh a little. Well, if he was cracking jokes, he couldn’t be doing that bad. “Before that ever happens, I will grow wings and learn to fly on my own.”

Henry determinately gritted his teeth, dropped the sword’s sheath on the sand carelessly, and mounted up. They were as ready as they’d ever be. “Hey, let’s fight the way we flew together at the cliff, alright?”, the exiled prince mumbled, on a whim. “Sounds like a plan”, the flier replied, and his hope replenished immediately.

As Thanatos readied himself for lift-off, Henry’s gaze wandered around the arena, inspecting the eager faces. It was all or nothing. And who knew, with a little luck, they’d win, and be set free. It was all he could believe in anymore. All he could fight for.

A large rat with dark grey fur, a torn ear, and two big, long scars across his left leg soon entered a spot, probably preserved for some sort of announcer. Soon, he indeed raised his voice above the excited murmur of the crowd – “And today I present to you, my dear fellow gnawers, something we didn’t have here in this establishment for a long time!”

The audience roared, and he was compelled to raise his voice – “A human and his flier, armed with but a sword – and, of course, their ability to fly, against an old friend of mine –” He made a dramatic pause. “Please welcome the standing champion of this arena – victor of over a dozen battles, bearer of a thousand scars, I present the one and only – SIZZLEBLOOD!”

The mention of the name loudened the roars from the audience to the point where it became nigh-unbearable. Henry made a face, attempting to cover his ears, as both his and Thanatos’ gazes automatically fixated the entrance of the arena, from where a huge, light grey rat with too many scars to count now strolled towards them. “Ahhh, it seems like Splintleg found new meat for me, a human pup and a spiritless veteran. This’ll be fun.”

When she spoke, Henry knew the rat had to be a female, by the higher pitch of her voice. She rose to her hind legs and sounded a screeching battle cry, bearing her razor-sharp teeth. The rat who had spoken earlier, probably Splintleg, yelled “FIGHT!”, and she instantly leaped at them.

Thanatos dodged at the last second, throwing himself in the air, and Henry just about managed to hold on and aim at her outstretched front paws with his sword. He didn’t have time to check whether he’d hit his target and only moments later the flier was circling above their opponent.

His eyes fixated on her, she had cowered down, preparing to leap at them, and a wave of adrenaline suddenly engulfed him. These rats wanted a show? Henry gripped his sword tighter, his mouth even curved into a little smile. He would give them a show, alright.

As Thanatos spread his wings, getting ready to dodge, Henry leaned forward and whispered into his ear – “Let’s fight!” And then they fought.

Henry had almost looked forward to it, but the battle proved to be harder than expected as the space Thanatos had to dodge and maneuver was limited. The sandy arena covered less space than previously assumed and whenever the flier came too close to the audience he was driven back by razor-sharp claws and teeth.

That and, of course, Sizzleblood was a skilled warrior, to say the least. Her ability to jump was impeccable and more than once they’d only been able to dodge her leaping attacks by mere inches.

However, Henry and Thanatos were both experienced in fighting grounded enemies from the air, even if they had never done it together yet, which allowed them to make good use of their advantage also. As many times as she had come close to striking them with her sharp talons, Henry’s blade had nearly hit as well.

When his sword, at last, landed the first hit across Sizzleblood’s left side, the frantic roaring from the audience grew unbearably loud, so that her screams of pain and humiliation were swallowed entirely. Triumph flooded Henry and he grinned ear-to-ear. Not even the painfully loud screaming could phase him as he swung the bloodied blade above his head, in the direction of the audience, like to show it off.

But his triumph wore off quickly, as mere minutes later Sizzleblood managed to dig her claws into Henry’s right shoulder. He screamed in pain, barely registering hot, sticky splatters of blood hitting his face from where her talons had torn his flesh. The substance soon ran down his arm, coloring the hilt and blade of his own sword red. Henry’s head spun and he nearly let go of the weapon, her intention must have been to disarm him.

“You alright?”, Thanatos sounded beneath him. Passively, the exiled prince watched his own blood drip into the flier’s fur, before regaining his wit and determinately shaking his head. Now was not the time for weakness. He quickly wiped his wet hand on his shirt and reassured the flier he was fine, even though the three deep gashes Sizzleblood’s claws had left still bled and burned like fire.

As he attempted to raise the blade for a counterstrike, Henry made out the worst part – not the pain or the bleeding that wouldn’t stop, no, those he could have handled – had they been inflicted anywhere else. But now his sword arm was injured. He registered in shock he was barely able to lift the heavy blade anymore. It fell back at his side and nearly dropped to the floor as he attempted it.

The mood in the audience instantly shifted. They have written me off as defeated, Henry felt anger and frustration swell up in him. It boiled in his stomach, rose up into his throat, and provided him with a fresh wave of energy. This was not the way he would die. This was not all he had in store. It couldn’t be. Should they wait and see.

Henry clenched his hand so tightly around the handle of his sword his knuckles shone white and tried hard to think. His head clouded from the pain, and his vision started blurring, but he refused to let that stop him. At the same time, he knew they wouldn’t be able to get her with raw violence anymore, not with him injured like this. What they needed was a plan.

“Your sling.”

Thanatos’ words manifested in his brain a few seconds after his ears had registered them. The... the sling!

“I have no stones”, he called as the brief moment of joy abated. His gaze automatically darted to the floor in search of stones, and as Thanatos flew closer to the ground, Henry indeed made out a few fitting for the sling. But to get them, he would need to go down there.

“Can you cover me?” The exiled prince had no real plan. Only a couple vague ideas.

“Cover you? How?”

How? Henry tried to think, tried to ignore the numbness, and the throbbing pain in his more and more limping arm. Think. Then he saw it – Aurora, in the arena, back in Regalia, in training, later in the spinner web – “A coiler! You know, around her, it’ll confuse her!”, Henry tried to put his newly formed plan into semi-coherent words.

“A... well, that could work.” Thankfully, Thanatos seemed to know exactly what Henry had meant. “Ten seconds at most.”

The exiled prince nodded, taking a deep breath. “On three.” He silently counted in his head, not taking his gaze off the sandy floor that grew closer and closer, as Thanatos darted down, and, on three, let himself fall off the flier’s back when he flew inches above the ground. He had to drop his sword and roll off over his uninjured shoulder, but he managed to be back on his feet, a few heartbeats later.

As soon as Sizzleblood registered he was on the floor, she immediately leaped at him, only to be stopped in mid-air by a determined flier, who dug his claws into her left arm.

She was disoriented for a moment and Henry had just about enough time to pick his sword back up and watch Thanatos initiate the coiler. It was a most impressive maneuver – he flew a thin, cylindric shape around the rat, making her dizzy and disoriented as they had hoped. Quickly, Henry picked up a few stones before darting for the sheath he had dropped earlier, sticking his sword in, and loading his sling.

His timing was near perfect as the coiler didn’t distract the gnawer champion for as long as they’d hoped. Thanatos was already flying greater circles, preparing to end the maneuver, when her claws struck his lower body, causing him to shriek in pain. He barely managed to get away and Henry knew he wouldn’t be able to land to pick him up, as Sizzleblood was on his tail, ready to finish what she had started.

Henry watched and waited, preparing for the right moment to leap. When Thanatos had almost reached him, he turned, ran, and jumped as high as he could – with spread legs. The flier caught him perfectly and they quickly gained altitude.

Relief washed over Henry, as soon as they were in the air again. He prepared his sling, trying hard to steady his injured arm. When Thanatos started to circle the furious gnawer again, Henry aimed and shot, but cursed when Sizzleblood dodged his first stone. He aimed again, with left this time, and managed to hit the side of her head, disorienting her enough to give him a chance. Henry forced himself to steady his arm and his last stone successfully struck her forehead. She let out a high-pitched shriek and immediately dropped, unconscious.

Thanatos darted down and Henry jumped, landing on top of the rat. He drew his sword and pierced her throat in the same breath.

After her body had stopped writhing Henry took in the deafening silence, broken only by his own heavy breaths. No cheers, no yelling, nothing.

Thanatos landed beside him and the exiled prince slowly removed his blade from the dead gnawer’s throat. It made an uncomfortable sopping sound and Henry found he wished it wasn’t so silent.

As he sheathed the blade he registered someone approaching from behind. He twirled around, and tugged at the hilt of his sword, fully expecting another attack, but it was just Splintleg, the announcer, who came to check on his dead champion.

He shoved Henry aside, to cower over Sizzleblood’s lifeless body. After sniffing her for a few seconds, he turned to the victors, who stood next to her, unsure of what would happen now. Henry thought his gaze was misted with something, was it pain? Had he... known her well?

Before a wave of fear could properly hit him, as to what the rat would do to them for killing someone he had cared about, the announcer had raised his voice. To his surprise, Henry registered no trace of sorrow, instead, it seemed cheerful. “Well, well, look what we have here – the underdogs WIN!”, he exclaimed, and only then the cave filled with the familiar cheers.

For a couple moments, Henry was actually able to bask in it. This was it, they had won. They had shown these rats who was boss. That’s what they got for capturing them.

Just when he thought he could get used to this, Splintleg raised his voice again – “Congratulations, Sizzleblood was undefeated for more than a dozen fights straight. You fought well, for what you are.” The rat smiled crookedly. “You put on a fantastic show, one of the best this crowd has ever seen, if I may say so – and you lived. What do you say, should we let you go as a reward?”, he asked, casually sitting down on his hind legs.

Henry’s grin widened and he was about to reassure him that was a great idea, when suddenly a much shorter, dirty-cream-colored rat left the bleachers to speak to Splintleg. He whispered in his ear, pointing at Henry. The big grey rat’s expression shifted, over the course of the conversation, from amused to stunned, and finally to something like aggressive.

When the shorter rat left the arena again, Splintleg turned back to the new champions, who nervously exchanged glances. “Well, looks like you aren’t just anyone, human pup. It seems like some of my friends who watched you fight today recognized you – as the one responsible for the death of our king!” An uproar of protest ran through the audience as it took in the words and Henry unwillingly took a step back. What was he talking about? He hadn’t so much as laid a finger on Gorger! Quite on the contrary, even.

“I... I did not...”, but Splintleg didn’t let him finish. “The flier can leave!”, he shooed Thanatos away, in the direction of the exit, “But you... you will remain. And you will pay!” Two of Splintleg’s guards instantly grabbed Henry by the shoulders and restrained him in place. He cried in pain from the rats gripping his injured arm and a wave of panic threaten to overwhelm him.

His gaze automatically darted over to Thanatos. Would he do as this gnawer said and leave him? Yes, they had had their differences, over the course of the last few weeks, but they had fought as a unit now. Together, in mind and action. He had once more sensed the same perfect synch between them, like back at the cliff. Had it been... enough?

The flier was visibly torn, he eyed the gnawers holding Henry, those in the audience, and then the exiled prince himself.

Then he made his decision.

“Well, we had a rule about this, right?”, he quietly mumbled. It was the last words Henry heard of him before he turned and left the cave through the sole entrance.


	9. Rules

“Kill him!” – “Rip his head off!” – “Burn him!” The cries of hundreds of furious rats echoed through the arena, but none of them could pierce the heavy mist enveloping Henry. It clouded his senses and blurred his vision – the room was brightly illuminated but he saw nothing. Nothing except for Thanatos, over and over again, leaving the cave – deliberately choosing to leave him. Not out of an argument or affect, but the most logical reason imaginable – their alliance agreement.

In his head, Henry was perfectly aware there was nothing the flier could have achieved by staying. There were far too many rats to fight for the two of them, all it would have amounted to was the flier’s own death alongside Henry, and there was nothing to be gained out of that, for neither of them. Yet his so immediate decision to leave hurt – it hurt more than the exiled prince would have ever imagined it would. More than he wanted to admit, even before himself.

Henry was clenching his jaw painfully. He could stay in this cloud of mist, or he could try and fight it. He had promised himself he would fight.

With sheer willpower, he focused his eyes and raised his gaze from the floor. There, a little offside, were Splintleg and a few of his friends, most likely discussing all kinds of torture- and execution methods, but they were too far away to understand.

Anger suddenly boiled up in Henry. They had no right to decide his fate without even listening to his point, it was not fair. He hadn’t even done what they accused him of, he had never laid a finger on Gorger! It was the stupid rat king who attempted to kill me, not the other way around, he angrily clenched his fists.

“I didn’t kill him! Your damn king killed himself, okay?!”, Henry screamed until his voice cracked and he broke into a coughing fit. Speaking was painful, but he had to speak. Had to tell the truth. “It was he who wanted to kill me!”

But his protests were disregarded, not a single of the rats talking even looked his way. When Henry opened his mouth to call out again, determined to get through to them somehow, one of the guards holding him slapped the tip of his tail across his cheek – “Quiet!”

Henry cried out, twitching in his grasp, but of course, the rat held him firmly. The spot he had struck burned like fire and the exiled prince gave up at last, hanging his head. A painful wave of defeat and fatigue from the fight and all the previous ordeals engulfed him. His shoulder still pulsed and his vision was getting foggy.

Maybe this is where it ends, he could not even muster up the strength to think of a way out. Maybe I die... here.

He had survived longer than he ever thought he would already, and he suddenly didn’t know if he had the strength to survive any longer. Henry’s own rule came to mind – let the world fight you for every ounce of life in your body. But... was there any life still left in him now?

He blocked out everything, shut his eyes and ears to his surroundings, attempting to find it, the ounce of life. Instead, tattered pieces of memories and images flooded his head, like they had been waiting for this opportunity, for him to listen.

This time Henry didn’t try to stop them. He let them fill his heart with emotion – sadness, regret, pain, shame – but also determination, the countless memories of his young life, everything he’d not yet done or experienced and most likely never would now, made him grit his teeth in anger once more. Anger at the world, at himself, the rats, and at Thanatos – for standing in his way, for taking this from him. For having the audacity to think they had any right to take his life.

“No, no, no, I have a much better idea.” Henry was so focused on his own anger he registered the rasping voice only on the side. “We let him share the fate of our king – we let him fall!” His head jerked up as his ears registered the words. They would do... what?

Henry’s eyes automatically locked onto the cream-colored rat who had voiced the suggestion and realized he looked familiar. Yes, he was the one who had originally pointed Henry out to Splintleg. The same small stature, the distinct, dirty-light-brown color of fur, and the same cold, dead, evil eyes that now stared at him, seemingly filled with all the hatred of the gnawers in this room combined.

“What a fabulous idea, Cleaver”, that was Splintleg’s voice, and the others in their little group started cheering and nodding approvingly as well. As his proposal was praised, the cream-colored rat... Cleaver, stepped away and approached Henry, wearing a mocking expression. “Oh look at him, I think he likes the idea as well!” He giggled maniacally as he stepped even closer, “Wait, you aren’t perhaps... AFRAID of falling, are you?”

His words triggered laughter, it seemed to envelop and suffocate Henry to the point where he could almost not hold Cleaver’s gaze. The two dozen rats who were laughing now had left their seats on the bleachers to encircle him, stifling even his last hope to escape, like the flock of bloodthirsty animals they were.

Cleaver minded them little, though. Instead, he started circling Henry like a predator taunting his prey. The exiled prince attempted to keep his eyes on him at all times at least, and now that he saw the cream-colored rat up close, he discerned he must be a ferocious fighter, despite his size. He had numerous, vicious-looking battle scars and the other rats seemed to respect him at least so much they let him proceed, even made way for him, occasionally.

“What’s the matter, little human, lost your tongue? Or did perhaps your flier-friend take it with him when he abandoned you so quickly and without hesitation?”

Even more laughter.

The gnawer’s words had struck a nerve and Henry hated himself for allowing that to happen. He hated the pain of Thanatos leaving, it was not worth hurting over. But it hurt regardless.

Somehow, the pain must have crept into his expression as Cleaver caught onto it. “Aww... did you expect him to stay? Did he... BETRAY you? It hurts, doesn’t it? Betrayal... a traitor hurting from betrayal, isn’t that the most beautiful irony?”, the cream-colored rat continued to mock.

“A traitor to the humans, left all alone with a pack of gnawers, who want nothing more than your death, by the sole individual pitiful enough to still bother himself with your miserable life. My, mustn’t that feel amazing!”

Henry wanted to scream at him, to take his sword and stick it up the gloating rat’s throat. But his voice had left him, perhaps indeed together with Thanatos. But the gloating wasn’t the worst part. He could block that out, ignore it. No, a shiver of repulsion ran down Henry’s spine, the worst part was, no matter whether he ignored Cleaver or not, at his core he knew – the rat was speaking the truth.

“Let him fall! Let him fall!” The chants were deafening. Henry attempted to not listen, but the screams crept their way into his ears, regardless. He could make out others as well – “Death to the kingslayer!”, some called, “Avenge the king!”, others.

The arena had turned into a seething kettle of bloodlust, far worse than before, for now the blood they lusted after was his.

“Let’s go! Let’s find somewhere for him to fall!”, ordered Cleaver, and the guards holding Henry instantly moved. They followed the shorter rat out of the arena, the same way Henry and Thanatos had been brought here. Cleaver confidently led the way and, from what Henry could see, was accompanied by a dozen or so gnawers who had previously assembled around him in the arena. The chanting followed them as well.

A screeching voice screamed “Kingslayer!” directly into Henry’s ear. He winced back at the whiff of hot, stinking rat breath that accompanied it, but then a deeper, husky voice on his other side roared “Die! Die! Die!” over and over again. Henry gagged violently from the fumes they spewed his way, attempting to keep his writhing stomach at bay.

He shut his eyes tightly, trying to block out everything. The noise, the odor, the pain. All Henry wanted was to curl up in a ball, somewhere quiet, dark, somewhere he could be at peace.

The rats were dragging him along now, he did not have to move his legs. To an extent, Henry was grateful for that, as he didn’t know if he even had the strength to keep himself standing. His knees were scraping the floor, the scattered gravel tearing holes into his pants, but at this point, he couldn’t even feel it.

“Doesn’t this look like a nice hole to dump our kingslayer into?”, Cleaver’s voice pierced the choir of the others loud and clear and Henry’s eyes finally jolted open, but what lied ahead had him squeeze them shut again instantly. Inches before him the ground disappeared into black nothingness. The cliff was so deep, the faint light of the brazier one of the gnawers had brought with them, apparently for him to see his fate before meeting it, didn’t reach the ground.

Henry’s heart skipped a beat and his palms broke with cold sweat. His breathing became choppy and he had to suppress the urge to gag again. All the nightmares he still had, about falling into an abyss like this, flooded his mind, breaking down the barriers he had erected to keep them out easily, like a raging flood. The phobia he had developed of this very scenario gripped his heart and lumped his throat.

Make them kill me any way, just not like this, he prayed. Please, do not let me die like this.

“Like the view?”, Henry made out Cleaver’s mocking voice clearly above the others. “Oh, come on, what’s with that face? How about we see it in a positive way – to be perfectly honest, we’re doing you a favor by killing you!”

Approving screams sounded from the crowd.

“I mean, what does someone like you still have to live for anyway?” Again, Cleaver’s words were accompanied by cheers so loud they echoed from the walls of the cave.

Henry remained silent. He didn’t even know whether he had the strength to speak, whether his voice would obey him. “Outcast by the humans, abandoned by the flier, you have nothing left – a prince you once were, I hear. What are you now?” The sound of the rat’s voice was unbearable, with all the truths it carried.

“Well, what is he now?”, Cleaver audibly turned from Henry, addressing the crowd. “A kingslayer!” it sounded, “dead meat!”, – “a traitor prince!” a single voice suddenly called and Cleaver turned in its direction. “A traitor prince”, he hissed, giving a dry laugh, “Oh yes, I like that. A traitor prince – a Prince of Rats!” The name echoed in his brain, as it was picked up by the crowd at once. “Kill him! Kill the Prince of Rats!”

Henry’s head was spinning and his feet, teetering at the edge of the cliff, kicked a few loose pebbles down. He closed his eyes, attempting to force himself to accept his fate. To die with dignity. A single tear ran down his cheek and he angrily blinked the rest away. Dignity – he couldn’t cry now. These rats did not deserve the satisfaction.

Without warning, the guards let Henry go and he fell to his knees, directly at the impending abyss. Before he had time to properly process he was free, a sudden heavy blow hit his back, accompanied by the scream “DIE!” in Cleaver’s distorted voice. The exiled prince lost balance and dove, head forward, down the cliff. Only the cheers and occasional “kill the Prince of Rats”-cries followed.

Everything in Henry screamed for help, but his mouth didn’t voice a single sound. He had told himself he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction and he was determined to stick with that.

The exiled prince then perceived the familiar breeze on his face and in his hair and only now, a few seconds into the fall, he realized, this time, there would be no good-willed flier pitiful enough to save him. Not this time. He would actually... die here. Now. Like... this.

Panic lumped his throat and tears rose in his eyes again, he shut them firmly, wrapping his arms around his own body, finding himself flooded by the same emotions from the previous fall. Once more he wished the impact would come sooner rather than later. Oh, if only it would come at last.

More than halfway down the cliff, he had already accepted his fate, when Henry suddenly spotted something from the corner of his semi-closed eye. A shadow, flying along the wall, above the rats. He instantly flung his eyes wide open to observe it and when it reached the middle of the cave, it dove above the gnawers’ heads into the abyss, after Henry.

The exiled prince recognized the shape of a bat and the distinct white mark on its face immediately. Before he had the time to fully process Thanatos hadn’t abandoned him after all, the flier had reached him and Henry screamed in pain from landing on his injured shoulder. He just about managed to wrap his arms around the flier’s neck as they gained altitude.

“Dammit, Henry, are you serious?” To Henry’s surprise, Thanatos did not sound mocking as expected, more like a mother lecturing a child. “I leave you alone for less than ONE HOUR and you’re already falling to your death AGAIN? Like, seriously, what am I even going to do with you?”

Henry simply pressed his face into Thanatos’ fur, holding on as tightly as he could. He didn’t want to cry but he found it utterly impossible to prevent tears of happiness from streaming down his cheeks.

As he wept into the flier’s fur, Henry could make out something like a sigh from him. “Alright, alright, I get it, I scared you. Come on, you didn’t think I had REALLY abandoned you, did you? I just... had to get out of there, to avoid dying myself, and gain time to figure out a way to go back for you. I promise. And besides, you got a new title out of it, didn’t you – Your Highness, oh great Prince of Rats?”

Now Henry finally made out mockery in Thanatos’ tone, but it was more comradely than hostile. The exiled prince swallowed the lump in his throat and raised his head a little, “Don’t ever do that again, you hear? EVER!” Henry didn’t recognize his own voice, it was shaking and distorted from crying. “You know what, considering what you just experienced I’m not even going to complain about how that sounded a lot like an order.”

Henry sighed in relief as the flier seemed reluctant to start an argument, and suddenly noticed he was flying circles at the bottom of the cliff, not in any apparent hurry to leave. When he asked for the reason, Thanatos replied – “I’m waiting for you to get yourself together and ask me to fly up there and teach those gloating fleabags a lesson.”

Henry didn’t answer, he drew his sword.

For the celebrating gnawers, at the top of the cliff, the attack came out of nowhere. Henry, on Thanatos’ back, with drawn sword, fueled by his tremendous anger and the adrenaline from the fall, dove up from the cliff, delivering a deadly strike with his first blow. Blood from the wounded rat specked Henry’s face and he joined Thanatos’ harrowing battle cry, slicing at the next gnawer, sending him down the cliff with a single strike.

Henry and Thanatos killed five more rats within mere minutes, the exiled prince always on the lookout for Cleaver. He still heard the short, cream-colored rat’s mocking words echo in his head and every inch in his body lusted for his blood.

One large, light-brown rat, tried to hide behind the brazier that still illuminated their surroundings. In his blind rage, instead of hitting him, Henry struck the brazier. As soon as his sword came in contact with the burning fuel, the now fat- and blood-soaked blade mixed with it and caught on fire.

In a first reflex, Henry nearly dropped the burning sword, but as he watched the flames dance around it eerily, a fresh rush of adrenaline and excitement hit him, and he gripped it harder instead, thrusting it into the neck of the gnawer who had tried to hide.

He didn’t stop there either – flaming sword raised above his head he could now see his surroundings properly, and there, he, at last, spotted the one rat he was looking for – Cleaver.

Henry didn’t even have to say anything, Thanatos had spotted him as well and leaped straight at the short, cream-colored rat. He was cowering in a corner, visibly intimidated by the now blood-covered duo of the skull-faced flier with bared teeth and the prince on his back with the flaming sword raised for a deadly strike.

Henry narrowed his eyes at the rat and slid off Thanatos’ back, pointing the tip of the still-burning sword at his throat. Cleaver screamed from the fire that now singed his whiskers and fur, but Henry’s face was unyielding as stone. “The Prince of Rats sends his regards!”, he called, piercing the gnawer’s throat.

After having killed or at least sent running all the rats who had previously tried to throw Henry off the cliff, the prince and the flier decided to take a quick rest before finally leaving the land of the gnawers behind.

Henry quickly tended to their wounds, most importantly his shoulder, as best he could without ready access to water. He bandaged it tightly with a piece from his shirt and urgently hoped he’d find water to clean it soon. Sizzleblood’s claws had torn three deep gashes into his flesh and even looking at it now he knew it would soon be a vicious scar. If he didn’t die from infection first, of course.

After that was taken care of, they curiously watched the sword he had dropped, after the battle had ended, until it stopped burning a minute or so later and the brazier remained as their sole light source.

“That was amazing, they were a dozen and we had them crying for their mommies, all by ourselves!” The fight hadn’t entirely drained Henry’s adrenaline, so he ended up pacing up and down while Thanatos found a ledge to hang from. He did not let the prince out of sight for a second. “Oh yes we did... your burning sword trick played a significant part though. I’ve never seen anything like that – and neither have they, probably.”

Henry nodded, eyeing his sword with something like newfound respect before sheathing it. “That was incredible, I had no idea that was even possible, setting a sword on fire...”, he pondered for a second, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “You know, I wish I had a way to do that on purpose, not only does it scare the enemies, it is also a non-negligible light source in battle.”

Thanatos did not reply, though Henry minded little as he found the adrenaline fading and the fatigue finally kicking in. He plopped on the ground next to the flier, breathing heavily and attempting to wipe the now dried blood from his face, at last.

“Hey, listen”, Thanatos suddenly spoke and Henry only groaned in response, he felt too drained for a conversation. But the flier continued regardless – “I wanted to make clear – those things the rats said about you, and me as well, were not true. So, don’t go and start believing that bullshit, yeah?” Thanatos’ voice continuously grew quieter as he spoke on.

Henry listened up, despite his exhaustion. “What exactly are you talking about?” The flier grunted. “Oh, you know, everything... the part where they said they’d do you a favor by killing you because you have nothing to live for anymore, especially.” The exiled prince shrugged, averting his gaze. He remembered his own reluctance at that moment, he had not argued, not even in his head, for he had indeed believed them. “Yeah, but... what exactly DO I have to live for?”

Thanatos scoffed. “Henry stop being an idiot. You... you do not live for a specific meaningful purpose at all times. Right now you live – you survive – to someday in the future find a purpose to live for again. Got it?”

Henry took his words in, they seemed to make sense, though he was mildly surprised to hear something like this from the flier’s mouth. Up until now, he hadn’t seemed like the type to give life advice. For some reason, he felt it took him back to when they had deciphered the Prophecy of Gray together. Maybe because he only remembered a couple of their conversations that hadn’t been some sort of argument, and that had been the most prominent one.

“So what I do is... I wait?” – “You search”, Thanatos called. “You do not sit around on your lazy butt, waiting for a miracle to happen. You go out there and throw yourself at things to eventually FIND your miracle.”

Henry chuckled a little. “Got you. I can do that... I think.” – “Oh, I’ll make sure you do, don’t worry.”

At first, he could not decide whether to take Thanatos’ words as a threat or encouragement, but suddenly they reminded Henry of something. “Hey, by the way” – “Yeah?” – “You came back for me.”

“No shit.” The flier’s voice dripped with sarcasm and the exiled prince grinned. “Yes, but I mean...”, he found himself struggling to find the right words, “You said it yourself – our rule! And while I didn’t... well, enjoy, the fact that you left, you had every right to, as by our agreement. Yet you still came back. Why would you –”

But Thanatos cut him off – “Eh, that’s whatever. I mean, rules are kind of meant to be broken anyway, aren’t they?” The exiled prince barely suppressed laughter. “Well, true.” He decided it was for the best not to mention that didn’t usually apply to rules you made yourself.

“And besides, YOU may have never heard anything about moral obligations, but I have, and my own morals have something against leaving someone behind who so very obviously and desperately needs me.”

Henry would have normally hit him for that last line, but he refrained from it this time, for the sake of a more urgently burning question – “So, you’re not going to leave me?”

“Well, it depends on what kinds of time dimensions we’re talking. I will most certainly not promise to NEVER leave you, but if we’re talking the nearer future – no, not planning to. Believe it or not, you’re pretty useful most of the time. And as I said, considering the fact you would definitely die, like, two seconds after I leave, I could live without that on my conscience.”

Once more Henry considered punching him, but that would require him to lift his arm, and all of a sudden, he felt much too tired for that. He simply leaned against the stone wall, closed his eyes, and relished the sensation of hope rising in his chest. Was that the answer as to why he hadn’t left him so far as well? Well, at least he had something on that now.

It wasn’t long before Henry found he was smiling. Thanatos was not leaving, and most importantly, they were getting along again. Would things maybe be different now? He found he could get used to the thought.

“That and you do enjoy not being entirely alone anymore, right?” Henry’s voice was barely more than a whisper as he slowly but surely drifted into the urgently needed sleep.

“Hey! Okay, first of all, that is utter bullshit, and second of all – the HELL you think you’re doing?!” Thanatos’ sharp voice had him jolt up again in the same heartbeat. Henry groaned, dreading another argument. “I’m tired...”

“You are not falling asleep here, you hear? We need to leave, like, NOW, or a patrol of rats will find us and finish what those over there started”, Henry winced as Thanatos leaped down from his ledge and landed in front of him, nodding in the direction of a corpse, a couple feet away.

Henry groaned louder, eyeing the flier from narrowed eyes, but understood the reasoning. “Alright, alright, if you let me sleep on the fly. We need to circle back to get my stuff, and then I don’t really care where we’re going. Any ideas?” He shakily rose to his feet, supporting himself on the wall, and quickly regarded his backpack, which still lied somewhere at a lake in the Dead Land, and his other things he’d left in their cave.

Thanatos had now cowered down for Henry to mount up, ready for lift-off. “After we rescue those nibblers who were prisoners with us, right?” Henry furrowed his brows but before he could say anything, Thanatos interrupted – “Don’t. Don’t even. We had THAT conversation already.”

The exiled prince sighed. “Right. Their friends might give us nice stuff if we save them.” The flier blinked at him and looked like he desperately wanted to facepalm. “Henry, the baby made you her fairytale prince. So act accordingly and save her, will you? Only, you know, for real this time.”

There was not really anything Henry could say to that.

The exiled prince fell asleep as soon as Thanatos had taken off and only woke when the flier landed again. As he carefully raised his gaze, attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes, he realized they were already back in the same cave they had been held prisoners in.

Thanatos was now cowering above the hole where they had spent the last day. “Hey, Platonius? It’s us, we’re here to save you!”, he called, as quietly as he could. Henry squinted his eyes and was able to make out a rodent-shaped figure at the bottom, waving at them meekly. When the flier spotted him too, he finally descended down.

Henry expected Curie to immediately whiz at them as he dismounted in the hole, but all she did was lie, curled up, in her grandfather’s arms. He was lying as well, pressed against the wall. His breaths were shallow and he looked wretched. “You... you came back... alive!” Platonius’ voice sounded brittle and quiet. “We... we didn’t expect to ever see you again.”

“They still did not feed you, did they?”, Thanatos asked, carefully examining Curie’s little body. Platonius shook his head. “It was heartbreaking, watching the small one cry for food before she eventually fell silent.”

“We’ll get you out”, the exiled prince called, hit by an unexpected stroke of affection for the two friendly nibblers, and Curie’s grandfather shot him a grateful look. “We would owe you.”

With Henry’s help, he managed to lift himself from the wall and climb onto Thanatos’ back. The exiled prince swiftly followed, carrying Curie in his arm, but, with the nibblers, it was getting quite crowded now. “Will you make it?”, he quietly asked the flier.

Thanatos tilted his head. “I’m fine. I’ve carried more.” And while Henry wasn’t entirely convinced he was telling the truth, it wasn’t like they had much of a choice, so he decided to have faith for now. They’d deal with any problem as it arose, no need to worry themselves prematurely.

Thanatos found his way out of the rat’s land fairly quickly and without further complications. Henry did not know whether the rats were distracted by the incident in the arena or just that careless, but frankly, he didn’t care, as long as they left them alone.

As soon as they had left the rat’s land behind, the exiled prince insisted on going back to the lake for his stuff, and after he had picked his backpack back up, Thanatos circled back to head for their old cave. There they decided to take a short break to eat, drink, and tend to their wounds properly.

Platonius and Curie, half-starved as they were, ate five whole fish in total. Henry and Thanatos quenched their hunger and thirst as well and Henry properly cleaned and bandaged both his own shoulder and Thanatos’ lower body, that Sizzleblood’s claws had torn open after he had performed the coiler.

“That was pretty impressive”, Henry admitted while tying the last knot on his bandage. “I don’t know many fliers who’d risk a maneuver like that around an attacking rat.”

“Well, you don’t know me then.”

“Have you ever seen one before? An arena, I mean?”, the exiled prince wondered, thinking it would by no means surprise him. Who knew what the flier had seen or been through, in all this time alone out here?

“I’ve heard of them, but never fought in one”, Thanatos shook his head. “We fliers aren’t ideal warriors for the gnawers to pin against each other, as our fighting abilities without a rider are normally limited. I can fight, I was often enough left no choice, but I’m the exception.”

Henry nodded and they grew silent, until Platonius finally asked, unable to restrain himself any longer, for where they had been taken.

Both he and especially Curie were awestruck when they heard Henry’s and Thanatos’ tale. The baby mouse stared at them with wide, admiring eyes, like they were true heroes from a fairytale, and the senior nibbler nodded respectfully, acknowledging their strength and bravery for surviving such a vicious place as the gnawers’ arena.

Yet, as nice as their admiration was, the conversation inevitably trailed in the direction as to where they lived and wanted to be taken, at some point, and when Henry learned where that was, his spirits immediately sank. “We can’t go to the jungle!”, he exclaimed, glaring at Thanatos accusingly. “That place is more treacherous than the rat’s land. I’m not going there!”

Curie raised her head, apparently surprised to see her hero scared of her home, Platonius nervously shifted, and Thanatos rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, don’t be such a wuss. It’s really not that bad. Well, when, you know, nothing is currently trying to kill you.”

Henry looked little convinced, but the flier seemed almost enthusiastic. “I assume yours is the colony near the hot spring, right?” Platonius nodded, visibly glad someone had diffused the situation, and Henry listened up at the words “hot spring”. “Is that a place you could possibly... you know, WASH yourself at?” He stared at the nibbler eagerly, imagining how it would feel to sink into the hot water of a spring again, impatiently scratching a stain of dirt on the palm of his hand. “I could use a bath, and that for like, the last month.”

Platonius nodded. “Of course. If you take us, they will welcome you with open arms. My daughter Lovelace is our colony’s leader, I am certain she will greet you with all due gratitude.”

“Well, that’s settled then”, Thanatos concluded and stood up to signal he was ready to start their trip to the jungle. “And, who knows, maybe we’ll even meet an old friend.”

The trip from where they were to the Underland-jungle usually took around half a day, and was not exactly safe, as it led through the entire land of the rats, including a treacherous section designated “Labyrinth”. Most of the tunnels in it were narrow and coiled, and Thanatos had trouble even finding passages wide-enough for him to fly through.

It ended up taking them an entire day, due to some detours avoiding narrow tunnels and rats, and several breaks for Thanatos to rest. He claimed he was fine the entire time, but Henry knew he was slowly but surely over-exhausting himself, hurt as he was.

After they’d crossed most of the rat’s land, Platonius and Curie slowly began to recognize certain caves and tunnels. They’d flown for maybe another hour when Platonius recognized so much he was able to lead Thanatos directly.

Henry was zoned out for the most part, dozing silently. He had slept earlier, but fatigue still took him over immediately. After the ordeals they had experienced, he wasn’t too surprised. The only question he had was how Thanatos was still holding on.

When Curie eventually voiced an excited squeal he raised his gaze at last and noticed the subtle changes in the environment. While they had flown in darkness before, more and more root-like plants twisted along the ground and occasionally crawled up the walls now. To Henry’s awe, they seemed to glow from within. A little creek that had run along their path joined into another, and later even more, to eventually end as a fast-streaming river, illuminating their path with its ghastly light.

When they finally reached the end of the tunnel and flew out into a vast cave, Henry’s jaw dropped. Hundreds of the glowing vines had grown on and around the entire cave, forming a dense network of living, glowing plants, that now enveloped them completely. They had arrived at their destination – the jungle.


	10. Reflection

At first, Henry was too taken aback by the change of environment to talk, all he did was sit quietly on Thanatos’ back, taking it all in. He didn’t know what he’d expected, all he knew was it hadn’t been this. Henry had heard stories about the jungle, but never actually been here. And, as dangerous as it was always made out to be, he’d never imagined it this beautiful.

But the further they flew, the more agitated Henry became. Why weren’t they there yet? They had reached the jungle, it couldn’t be far from here, could it?

“Just beyond this portion of land. It is controlled by the cutters, so we have to be cautious, but after we cross it, then we will almost be there”, Platonius said when he asked, and they proceeded on.

After carefully traversing said portion of cutter-territory, in whose way none of them wanted to get at this point in time, Thanatos exited through a narrow tunnel and they found themselves on a huge, grassy plane, adorn with a dense carpet of little white flowers. As he recognized the plane, Platonius told the flier to land, and as soon as he touched down, the senior nibbler announced it was best to take a short break here.

Henry dismounted, furrowing his brows in frustration. “But surely it isn’t far now! Why are we even stopping?” As beautiful as the giant plane was, he’d had enough of traveling for the day.

“Because ahead of us lies by far the most dangerous part of the journey”, Platonius’ voice sounded pitiful as he plopped down into the grass. “I do not like that we must make the trip to the colony through here, but otherwise we’d have to cross parts of the waterway, along with one of the most dangerous areas of the rat’s land, and it would mean a detour of more than a day, so it’s not any better.”

Henry listened up – “What do you mean – “most dangerous part of the journey”?” He instinctively raised his eyes to glance around suspiciously but spotted no imminent danger.

“He means the Vineyard of Eyes.” To Henry’s surprise, it was Thanatos who answered. “If I’m not mistaken, it lies directly ahead of us.”

“The Vine-what-now?” The flier laughed at Henry’s confused face.

“You know of it?”, Platonius curiously looked up at Thanatos, who now lied outstretched on the ground. “Yes. I’ve crossed it in the past, even. Though that was a long time ago.” The flier didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about it, and Henry was far too interested in finding out why this Vineyard-thing was apparently so dangerous to bother inquiring further.

When he asked, Platonius sighed. “It’s... without any doubt, the most dangerous part of the jungle. Come, take a look.” He rose to his hinds and Henry followed him over the plane, towards an entrance to a different cave, directly across from where they had come.

The connecting tunnel wasn’t long, but Henry’s jaw dropped when he took his first look. “Who the hell made the plants look like this? It’s masterful work!”

The entry to the tunnel beyond was strikingly beautiful, ornated with countless vines, adorned with little white flowers. A seemingly man-made path led deeper into the garden – “garden” was the appropriate word indeed, as all of it seemed carefully tended to and cut into perfect shape. The vines with the white flowers were everywhere, and the whole path had an unnerving, virtually artificial-seeming, perfect symmetry to it.

But when Henry tried to step closer and take a better look, Platonius grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “Don’t! You cannot fall under the spell of this place’s beauty.”

The exiled prince threw him a confused look, then glanced back into the tunnel. He opened his mouth to ask why not, but the nibbler continued – “It’s not made by any man”, he pulled Henry even further back, “the jungle itself has created this place, to entice all living creatures, especially rest-seeking wanderers. And it’s its most powerful and effective trap.”

Henry furrowed his brows and peeked back into the tunnel. Only now, as he looked at it closer, he noticed all the little white flowers covering the vines were facing their way without exception, like they were... watching them, waiting for them to draw closer. Henry squinted his eyes, a lump rising in his throat. Yes, from the distance, they almost looked like – eyes.

A shiver ran down his spine and he had to suppress the urge to take a couple steps back. Since when could plants... stare? Was that why this place had been given the name “Vineyard of Eyes”?

Platonius returned his concerned look. “I’m afraid it is even worse than you think. If you go in there unprepared, you will be immediately and seamlessly killed and consumed.”

“The plants emit a strong odor that makes living creatures forget all sense and reason. Then, the vines pull them into their mid, dissect and consume them within seconds. Of those who die here not a single trace remains.”

They had rejoined Thanatos and Curie, who had found a place to rest, between the flier’s ears. He let her proceed without objection, Henry even suspected he was secretly enjoying it.

“It almost sounds as if... it’s alive”, the exiled prince mumbled, mindlessly staring back in the direction of the Vineyard. “You’re not the first to make that assumption”, Platonius’ words didn’t sound reassuring at all, “though nobody truly knows what it is, and how – alive – it can be considered.”

They all fell silent for a moment, processing the senior nibbler’s words. Henry swallowed, attempting to suppress his own rising unease. “But, in that case, how do you expect us to cross it?”

“Well, there’s really only two things we can do”, Platonius sighed, “for one, we have to be as fast as we can. Our best bet is for Thanatos to fly us through. He has crossed it before, so he knows what we are dealing with, and his speed exceeds ours. Though he’ll need as much strength as he can get for it, that’s why we are resting. And for the other – we would be better off covering our mouths and noses, and attempt to breathe as little as we can, to not inhale great quantities of the Vineyard’s scent.”

Henry bit his lip. He disliked having to cross something that unpredictable and deadly, something that could even be considered a living organism to some extent, but, of course, they had no choice. The only thing he could do was prepare.

Following Platonius’ recommendation, he made covers for everyone’s mouths and noses out of the remaining cloths he had, which turned out to be more of a challenge than he had expected.

To kit out the flier, he had to tie two cloths together, and Platonius’ cover barely reached and was in constant danger of falling off, but it was the best he could do, and better than nothing. Curie they tied to Platonius’ chest with one of Henry’s belts, as the elderly nibbler claimed the youngest would be affected the most and he wanted to make sure she was safe. The belt was uncomfortably tight for both nibblers, but the risk of her falling or being torn off was too high, otherwise.

When they had all at last assumed positions on Thanatos’ back, who was cowering at the entrance, ready to take off, Platonius quickly addressed Henry one last time. His voice sounded muffled under the cover around his mouth – “Listen, under no circumstances draw your sword in the Vineyard, do you understand? It’ll only make things worse.”

Henry frowned, attempting to glance back at him. “And what the hell am I supposed to do if we get attacked or dragged off Thanatos’ back?” – “Whatever you can without having to draw your sword”, the elderly nibbler insisted, “the vines don’t like blades.”

Henry scoffed before turning ahead and tugging at the cloth on his own face. He internally decided he’d draw his sword whenever he saw fit, Platonius couldn’t command him. Why would he care if the vines liked it or not? The stupid salad toppings could go sit on a tack, he wasn’t scared.

“Ready?”, Thanatos’ voice interrupted his thoughts. “As we’ll ever be”, Henry felt his chest tighten and he swallowed a lump as he stared ahead at the unnervingly beautiful path, despite his previous attempts at bravery.

“Take a deep breath”, Platonius reminded them, “and in there, breathe as little as possible.” Henry did as the nibbler said, and Thanatos beneath him did the same. For a second he wondered how long he’d be able to hold his breath, he had never been incredibly great at it, but quickly dismissed the thought. He’d see soon enough.

Instead of worrying, he turned his gaze ahead and counted – “Three, two, one... Go!”

Thanatos immediately leaped up, across the threshold to the Vineyard, and as soon as they moved, the white flowers – the Vineyard’s eyes – followed them. Henry could have sworn some of them even blinked.

The exiled prince did not count the seconds, but a minute or so must have passed before he ran out of air. So far, none of the plants had attacked, but as soon as he took his first breath, a sweet, thick scent entered his mouth and nose, despite the cloth. After maybe another half a minute, his head started spinning uncomfortably.

He glanced down at his hands. One of his fingernails had broken off earlier, leaving a jagged pattern. For some reason, the sight made him grin. It was such an incredibly amusing shape, Henry thought he had never seen anything like it. He raised his hand to his face, to look closer, and started giggling a little. Soon his gaze trailed up, the vines around him had blurred to a confusing pattern of green. The little white flowers looked like spots of color someone had sprinkled on a green canvas. The thought made him laugh, what a clumsy artist would sprinkle paint?

Henry raised his finger to point, laughing vigorously now. What in the world was so terrible about this place? It was fun! Had the green canvas... the vines... around him drawn closer? Did they want to say hello?

Henry meekly extended his hand further towards them, but before he could touch any, Thanatos lost balance and sunk a couple feet, soon starting to reel through the air like he was drunk. A drunk flier – that was the funniest thought Henry had ever had, and he nearly started crying of laughter, letting go of Thanatos’ fur to fling his hands in the air.

Somewhere in his periphery, he perceived the flier had now started laughing as well, much like both nibblers. Platonius had his claws dug into Henry’s backpack and was noticeably shaking with laughter. A jolt of irritation hit the exiled prince and he attempted to shake him. He didn’t want the nibbler to hold him, he wanted to let himself fall and join his new plant friends in their mid.

But just as he had wrung himself out of Platonius grip, they flew out of the cave. Thanatos flight was still staggering, but the nibbler behind him had audibly started taking deep breaths of the now much less sweet air.

At first, that made Henry laugh even more – a panting nibbler, what funnier thing could there ever be – but then he looked back at his nail, that he had found so funny earlier, and realized there was nothing funny about it.

“Deep breaths”, Platonius mumbled behind him, “cleanse your lungs”. Henry blinked a couple times, like to wake himself from the strange daze, and started breathing deeply as well. He quickly tore the cloth he’d wrapped around his mouth away and, as he took in the fresh air, his head cleared instantly.

As soon as he had more or less regained his senses, he quickly removed Thanatos’ cover too, passing on the advice to breathe deeply to the flier. “Are... are we out?”, Henry asked, still a little dazed, peeking back hesitantly, frightened by how close to death he’d just been.

“Out of the worst part, yes. Not out of the Vineyard though”, Platonius answered, sounding similarly chipped. The only one still giggling a little was Curie, but as they continued forward, she fell silent too.

Thanatos insisted he was strong enough to make it out of the Vineyard entirely, and they decided it was for the best to get out as soon as they could, so nobody demanded a break.

Only when they left the last seemingly man-made arcade of vines behind, another fifteen-or-so minutes later, Henry eased up. The whole flight he’d had this creepy suspicion the Vineyard was watching them, with its lifeless, vegetal eyes, and he was more than happy to be out of it.

They flew another maybe twenty minutes, through what Henry assumed to be normal jungle. It was hard for the great flier to navigate in between the vines, he ended up flying above them for the most part. He managed, though everyone was happy as he flew out into the open, where, to Henry’s surprise, they were greeted by the sound of rushing water.

The exiled prince blinked a few times, unable to believe his eyes – they were in a grand cave, lush with green, and in the middle lied a giant lake fed by a waterfall as well as some smaller creeks, originating further back. There he made out a few adjacent caves, most of which lied partially underwater.

This must be the hot spring Platonius had mentioned, Henry thought, and his excitement poked its head out, from where it had been hiding during the trip through the Vineyard. What lied ahead bordered on paradise, then again, a far more beautiful place had just nearly killed him, so he decided to not jump to conclusions yet.

Thanatos hovered above the lake for a moment before zooming in on the sandy beach around it. Instantly, the elderly nibbler called out to land somewhere else, as, towards the rocks, on the other side, there was quicksand. The flier turned in the last moment, touching down on a green spot next to the beach instead. Platonius jumped off as soon as Thanatos was on the ground and Curie, whom they had untied from her grandfather’s chest during the flight, followed him, making excited, high-pitched noises.

Henry mounted down too, still looking around curiously, when he made out a pair of eyes in between the vines behind the rocks on the other side of the cave. Another pair followed, and another, until, encouraged by Platonius and Curie, who immediately made their way over, a first careful snout, then a head and a body emerged. Around five others followed, surrounding the two rescued nibblers at once, greeting them excitedly.

Henry and Thanatos stayed on the side, watching, until a female nibbler with silken, cream-colored fur emerged from the group and approached, flanked by Platonius and Curie. “You must be the heroic flier and human who saved my daughter and father! For that, the entire colony owes you greatly.” Her voice sounded high-pitched but warm, and her expression was welcoming. “My name is Lovelace, I am the leader of the nibblers in the jungle.”

Henry and Thanatos returned her smile and introduced themselves, before following her into a large cave system behind the vines. As Henry stepped through the curtain after her his jaw dropped – he did not know exactly what he had expected, but certainly not the buzzing, lively colony he met behind the curtain of vines.

Lovelace told some of the other nibblers to prepare a meal for the guests and when the enticingly smelling feast of grilled fish, bread, mushrooms, fruit, and even a few vegetables was finally served, Henry felt like he was truly in paradise. In a long time, he hadn’t enjoyed a meal as thoroughly as he did this one. As of lately, he had not eaten anything even remotely delightful and eating had turned into a necessity he needed to get over with, far from something to be enjoyed.

As he gobbled up what felt like three times the food he’d normally eat, he shook his head at how, prior to his exile, he would have probably scoffed at the meal for being little exotic and, for normal standards, rather bland. Now, after a whole month without proper food, he felt like he’d never eaten anything better.

Once they were done dining, he and Thanatos sat down with Lovelace and a few other nibblers, respectively her main advisors and officials, and told them what exactly had happened. The story was a long one, and upon hearing what ordeals they’d been through, she immediately assigned them a place to sleep for the night.

Henry sighed in immense relief, but on his way out, remembered he had wanted to ask about taking a bath. Lovelace nodded, claiming he was free to use the hot spring at any time. They’d even provide him with some fresh clothes they would’ve otherwise traded to the humans, she said.

The prospect of a bath was insanely tempting. Henry’s sore body was yearning for it and with every passing second it grew increasingly harder to ignore the stickiness and unnervingly crusty feel his clothes had taken on, over the weeks.

But when he arrived at the narrow cave Lovelace had assigned them to and saw the furs they had brought for him to sleep on, his legs instantly gave way of exhaustion. He barely registered Thanatos collapsing beside him.

Back to back with the flier, Henry allowed his body to grow limp, not even bothering to take off his boots or sword belt. He instantly drifted away as he closed his eyes, finally giving into the rest he had needed so badly for the longest time.

The next day had advanced quite far when Henry awoke. The nibblers had let them sleep, and he suspected they had done so for at least ten hours.

Thanatos was still lying silent when Henry slowly rose up. Next to him, someone had left his backpack, together with a set of fresh clothes, a towel, and a man-made hand-lantern, that emitted a soft, pleasant light.

When Henry arduously managed to stand up, his entire body anticipated the bath he intended to finally take now. He grabbed all his things, including the lantern, and, after short consideration, the sword as well – you could never be too careful in the jungle – and had already taken a first step out of the cave when a somewhat drowsy voice sounded behind him – “Where are you going?”

Henry turned back, registering his movement had probably woken Thanatos, who now struggled to rise as well, attempting to stretch his wings, not an easy task in the narrow cave.

“I’m taking a bath. You could use one too!”, he laughed and the flier grunted at the mockery. “Maybe later. For now, I think I will get a feel for the place here. And maybe get some breakfast.”

Henry nodded, registering the furious growling of his own stomach for the first time. “Let’s meet later at the lake. I’ll eat then, and you can fill me in on any discoveries you’ll have made.”

The flier had no objections and so they parted ways, Henry left the cave system that made up the colony through the curtain of vines and made his way towards one of the smaller caves behind the lake for privacy.

He found one that was hidden out of sight by a ledge and started arduously peeling off the clothes that had begun to feel like a second skin, so long he had worn them. He disgustedly tossed them aside, thinking he’d need to find a way to get them washed – or burn them altogether. Considering the state they were in, that seemed like a reasonable enough option.

When Henry entered the pleasantly warm water it was the best thing he’d experienced ever since the beginning of his exile. Better than the meal, even better than flying with Thanatos. None of it even came close.

Henry took his time with the bath. He was hungry, yes, but he couldn’t bring himself to rush now, not when he hadn’t had the chance to do this in such a long time.

He spent the next half an hour with nothing but sitting in the water, enjoying the sensation of the hot, soothing stream, listening to its steady, calm rushing, and relishing the feeling of safety and tranquility he had nearly forgotten over the last month, before he finally rose, deciding he could just as well explore the cave a little, now that he was already here. It had to lead somewhere.

Henry determinately grabbed the lantern he had brought and waded further in. The water level was around waist-high for him and the current not strong enough to pose a problem, so he traversed effortlessly. Soon, the exiled prince discovered the cave was a dead end, the water poured in through a hole near the ceiling at the back and created a small waterfall, that fed the river, streaming around him into the lake outside.

When he approached the waterfall and held the lantern higher, he winced back in shock. The surface of the falling water was smooth, and the reflection from his light made it a decent mirror, but that wasn’t the reason he had jumped. The reason was the face staring back at him out of the waterfall.

It took Henry a second to understand it was his own. Unbelievingly, he raised a hand and touched his face, half-expecting the reflection to not follow his movement.

He didn’t have the chance to look into a mirror ever since he had left Regalia and the face he saw now nothing short of frightened him. His mind reeled back to what he had always looked like in mirrors, and the man staring back at him from the waterfall maybe had his rough features, the shape of his face, the size of his eyes and nose, but apart from that surely had to be a stranger.

His eyes were sunken, bulged, and darker than they had ever been, beneath he spotted purple bags, and his whole face, especially his cheeks, were hollow and gaunt. His hair was too long, the tips now almost touched his shoulders, unkempt, and frizzy. It was, like the rest of his face and body, covered in unidentifiable stains.

Henry raised a hand to inspect one of the copious cuts and bruises he could spot, some of which had already turned to scars. They formed a dense network of red and white lines on his pale skin and Henry did not remember ever getting even half of them.

The downy beard he hadn’t had the chance to shave off was stained and tousled too, and it made him look considerably older than his sixteen years. It had bothered the exiled prince much as it itched, and felt out of place overall. He thought it would be an immense relief to get rid of it now.

The most frightening part, however, was how emaciated his whole body looked. His shoulder bones were acute under his nigh translucent skin and he could have counted his ribs. Judging by what he saw now he’d most likely lost at least twenty-five or thirty pounds over the course of the last month.

Henry stared at what had become of him for a while longer, trying to process it properly, and eventually turned away, carefully placing the lantern on a narrow ledge next to the waterfall. How could a single month in exile have changed me so much, he unbelievingly looked back and winced again at the sight.

Well, the good part was, he wouldn’t have any reason to worry about anyone recognizing him, should he ever be spotted by humans – he hadn’t even recognized himself. Henry shook his head at the absurdity as he waded over to his backpack. It held some necessities he’d originally packed for the quest, that he now needed to shave and wash.

Then again, if he’d take care of the worst things now, he’d need to worry again. The thought almost made him smile, but only almost.

More than an hour later, Henry was finally ready to leave the hot spring, quite satisfied with the results of his efforts. Most importantly, the face that now stared back at him out of the waterfall, still more than ever pale and gaunt with bags under his eyes, but Henry thought those would fix themselves eventually, looked somewhat like himself again.

He’d shaved off the beard and thoroughly cleansed any more or less fresh wounds, including the claw marks on his shoulder. Then he’d scrubbed at the blood- and dirt stains for nearly half an hour until they were all gone, washed, and kempt his hair as best he could, then using his sword, for lack of other tools, to trim it to its previous length.

Even his earrings he took out and cleaned, before putting them back in. He’d nearly forgotten they existed, over the last month. Then again, he’d had them for as long as he could think and was so used to the feel of metal in his ear that having them out felt strange.

As he fastened the last of the three shiny golden rings he pondered if he should maybe replace them soon. Wearing gold seemed out of place, even such a small amount. Then again, he had nothing to put in their stead, and he was unwilling to leave the earholes unoccupied, even now.

After shaving and tending to his hair Henry thought he looked his age again too. Well, for the most part, as his features had visibly matured over the last month, more than one would think was possible in such a short time.

He vividly remembered the face of the boy with the carefree grin and the lively eyes, the familiar body and face that had been well-nourished, evidence he’d led the carefree life of a prince, and yet had still worked out a lot. He thought of the boy so full of spirit and energy he used to see when looking into a mirror and shook his head at the gaunt, exhausted and evidently pushed to his limits shadow he saw now.

When Henry realized any further effort would be wasted and this was as close to his former self as he’d presumably ever be again, he picked up the lantern and waded back to the entrance of the cave.

He unwillingly got out of the water, dried off, and re-bandaged his shoulder, which had started bleeding again from the scrubbing. Then, he slipped on the fresh set of clothes the nibblers had left him, dried and kempt his hair as well as he could, before packing away his things and starting to make his way towards the great lake.

He registered the audible growl of his stomach and started eagerly anticipating breakfast. From the way he looked, he needed all the food he could get anyway. Still, even though he was hungry, a little drowsy from the hot water, and his countless injuries and strained joints ached – now that he had bathed and changed his clothes, Henry felt better than he had in a long time. In short, he felt like a somewhat civilized human again, instead of an animal on the run.

Enlivened by his successful morning, Henry quickened his pace and turned the corner around the rocks, that had shielded him from the beach. To his surprise, he spotted a picnic blanket on the sand near the lake, and sitting on it were two familiar figures, helping themselves to the food they’d apparently packed – Platonius and Curie.

“Is there any room on your blanket for me?”, he grinned and called at them from afar, waving the lantern in their direction. Curie squeaked and started jumping up and down at once, and Platonius purred approvingly.

Henry sprinted the last couple feet and hastily plopped down next to the elderly nibbler. Unable to restrain his hunger at the sight and smell of food, he immediately reached for one of the grilled fish they had prepared, and barely registered how Platonius drew closer and widened his eyes in surprise – “Oh?”

Henry raised his gaze at him, returning his unbelieving stare for a few seconds, before grinning widely. “I succeeded, didn’t I, after spending what, almost two hours, on trying to make myself look like an actual human again”, he laughed while taking the first bite.

Platonius blinked a couple times, then shook his head. “To be perfectly honest, hadn’t I smelled it, I would’ve not recognized you.”

“I’ll take that as a yes then”, the exiled prince reached into a basket with round, sweet pieces of fruit, “And as a compliment!”

“Where’s Thanatos, actually? Didn’t he want to join us?”, Henry finally asked, about ten or so minutes into their picnic. Curie had curled up on his lap and was eating away at a single fish nearly as big as herself, and Platonius had already finished two of the same size. They both looked much better than the day before, had washed and tended to their fur as well, and were visibly happy to be back home.

“He said he’d be back soon, but when I last saw him he was headed in the opposite direction from where we came yesterday. I don’t know what he was looking for”, Platonius shrugged. “But Henry, Curie and I should soon go and check if either of her parents need us.”

“Have I even met her father yet?”, the exiled prince asked, tearing off chunks from his own second fish and placing them on a piece of bread to make a sandwich. He remembered Lovelace, but none of the nibblers he’d met so far had acted like her partner.

Platonius shook his head. “Teslas? No, I doubt that. He’s... well, he is a quite gifted craftsman, but he usually prefers to not leave his workshop... ever. He is... well, he doesn’t like company, usually, unless it’s his family, and he can be a tad cranky if he is forced to spend time with people other than us.” The nibbler chuckled awkwardly. “We did see him yesterday, after we returned, and he did express the wish to meet you and Thanatos, but, as I know him, he’s probably already forgotten.”

“Well, you have to introduce us at some point, then”, Henry pondered, before asking what had occupied his mind over the course of the meal – “By the way, has Lovelace mentioned how long we’re allowed to stay?”

He urgently hoped they could stay at least for a while longer. Now that they had rested and eaten Henry had started worrying they would be sent away. He didn’t want to leave yet – this was, in contrary to his expectations, by far the friendliest place he’d seen, ever since his exile.

Platonius shook his head, guessing Henry’s thoughts. “I don’t think Lovelace will mind if you stay a little longer. She will probably want you to help out a bit, but we’ll gladly offer you and Thanatos shelter, at least for a while.” Relief engulfed the exiled prince and he threw Platonius an overjoyed smile. “That would be amazing. It’s great here!”

“It is, that’s why our ancestors chose this place to live after the gnawers had driven them into the jungle.” The elderly nibbler replied and stood up, beckoning Curie, “But we should get going. Come on, Curie! Let’s go see mother and father!” The little mouse followed her grandfather, but not without rubbing her nose on Henry’s shoulder, to say goodbye. “We’ll see you around!”, Platonius called, before disappearing into the veil of vines, with Curie on his tail.

Henry waved until they had disappeared, and remained on the blanket, eating for another ten minutes, to the point where he was completely stuffed. He hoped if he ate a little more than he normally would for a while, he’d regain weight, to at least look somewhat healthy again.

Henry had just started packing away the remaining bread and fruit when the vines behind him audibly rustled. He froze mid-movement and jolted around, raising the bread he was still holding like a weapon. Then he caught the familiar shape of a great black bat descending down onto the beach and eased up. It was only Thanatos. “Dammit, you scared me half to death – Death!”, Henry complained while plopping down again, flailing the bread around and suppressing laughter at his own joke.

The flier landed next to him on the blanket. “In that case, I achieved my goal.”

Henry looked up and rolled his eyes. “Oh, I am sure you did.” When their eyes met properly for the first time, Thanatos’ expression shifted to confusion, and, for a split second, to hostility. The flier stared at him before jolting back, like the sight of the exiled prince scared him. “The hell?!”, he exclaimed, keeping his distance now. He cowered on the floor, his wings were spread, like always when he wanted to seem intimidating, until his eyes narrowed and his posture, at last, eased up a little. “Wait – is that... really you?!”

Henry’s confusion turned to amusement and he broke into laughter. “You’ve been traveling with me for the last month and even YOU don’t recognize me? Like, come on, do I look THAT different? All I did was take a two-hour bath in an attempt to look at least somewhat human again.”

Thanatos’ expression was unreadable, he still stared at Henry, though he slowly drew in his wings and sat upright. “You... it IS you! Holy shit, I wouldn’t have recognized you for the world, had I not heard your voice just now.” The flier tilted his head, like to inspect Henry closer, “I never really got a good look at you – too dark – and the beard made you look very different, and especially... wait...”, he stiffened up again, narrowing his eyes in disbelief, “How OLD are you...?”

Henry frowned, rubbing his freshly shaved chin somewhat uncomfortably. “Eh... sixteen, why...?”

The flier’s eyes widened in shock. “Six – what?! The hell nobody tell me I allied myself to a KID?! I thought you were, like, ten years older than that... although human aging is undoubtedly confusing”, he mumbled the last part more to himself.

Henry opened his mouth to protest, when the flier added, a little quieter – “Then again, it does explain a lot, especially how little you know of the world and how whiny and spoiled you can be sometimes.”

Henry furrowed his brows, glaring at him, “Hey, to make this clear, I’m of age, got it? Don’t even think of treating me any differently just because I’m a little younger than you initially thought.”

Thanatos sighed, lying down next to the blanket. “Alright, alright – kid – though you should keep in mind you are in no position to give me orders, understood?” He turned from Henry and approached the water to catch a fresh fish for himself.

“That goes for you too!”, Henry exclaimed frustratedly, the flier’s words had sounded much like an order as well. “And come on, you’re really going to go there and call me “kid” now? I told you, I’m considered a grown-up where I come from. And besides, just because I’m not OLD like you, doesn’t mean I’m a worse fighter or rider now.”

Thanatos flicked his wing at him for the “old like you”-part but overall stopped complaining. Henry wasn’t even entirely certain as to how old the flier was, but from the experience he had, he was probably older – at least for his species – than the exiled prince himself.

But the more time passed, the longer Henry had to process Thanatos’ reaction. He thought back to his own when he had seen himself for the first time, and realized he couldn’t blame him.

“Hey”, Henry didn’t look at the flier as he slowly spoke up, “it’s not like I don’t KNOW I look different. To be completely honest, the first time I saw my reflection as it was before, it scared me to death.”

Thanatos laughed. “If this is how you normally look, I can see that.”

“No!”, Henry cried, hitting the ground with his fist, “I don’t even now look like before. I... I didn’t know one could change so much, over the course of only a single month. I...”, he hesitated, “I’m scared... I changed so much already, what will happen to me in, something like, a year... or so...?”

Thanatos sighed, turning his way. His expression was contented, even somewhat amused. “Oh, we’re having THAT phase now – scared to lose yourself and all, great.” Henry frowned but before he could speak, Thanatos continued – “Eh, it’s nothing to worry about, everyone whose life so radically transforms gets it. It’ll pass, I promise”, the flier turned back to the lake and caught a second fish, disregarding Henry, like the conversation was over.

“You... wait, how long will it... what do you mean “it’ll pass”?”, the exiled prince shouted. He had spilled his worst inner fear and all he had gotten as a response was “it’s just a phase”.

Thanatos laughed. “Oh, calm down, once you’ll find out that, in truth, you can only change as much as you allow yourself to change, you’ll learn to accept it. For now... try to not think about it too much, okay?”

“Oh, but if you can only change as much as you ALLOW yourself to change, why did I lose, like, thirty pounds over the last month? I do not remember ever consenting to that!”

The flier laughed more. “I was talking about IMPORTANT, IRREVERSIBLE changes, moron, eat more for a while and you’ll gain the weight back.” He sounded carefree now and, despite his lingering anger, Henry decided to leave it alone. He was not exactly in the mood for a prolonged argument. Further, he made a mental note to give the flier’s words some thought later, even if he’d never admit to it.

Henry let Thanatos finish his meal in comfortable silence, and when he was done, he decided it was best to mention the second thought that had occupied his mind, ever since they had arrived here. “This is a nice place, isn’t it?”, he asked, trying to sound casual. “You know what, I could imagine staying here for a while. Platonius said Lovelace would probably not mind letting us stay a while longer.”

Thanatos laughed. “Oh, what happened to “the jungle is a death trap, I’m not going there”?” The exiled prince grinned painfully. “Well, we did sort of pass the death trap part earlier, didn’t we?”

Even the proud flier didn’t have a response to that.

“So, what do you say? Can we stay?”

Thanatos shook his head. “You are aware that, even if I leave, YOU can stay right? I’m not your damn babysitter!” At Henry’s furrowed brows he laughed more. “I’m just saying. You are right, though, for once. This does seem like a nice place to stay. At least for a while.”


	11. Inventor

“Come on! Come up! He wants to see you! Come! COME!”

Henry’s eyes jolted open. As his vision focused, he spotted on top of his chest the creamy-white face of Curie, her nose mere inches from his.

He stared at the little mouse for a second, then groaned. This was the third day of their stay at the nibbler colony and Henry had to admit it had been the most pleasant three days he’d gotten to spend, ever since he’d become an outcast.

There was plenty of food and water, and the buzzing life of the colony made him feel like he belonged to a community again. He was never alone, and he had quickly learned to appreciate that, over the last few days.

But, of course, the most important benefit was how now he didn’t have to worry about rats or other, possibly unknown, threats around every corner. For the first time in what seemed like forever he felt safe. He’d almost forgotten how that was like.

Safety. Henry pondered on the word and marveled at how alien the concept sounded. Ever since his parents had died, some eight years ago, he had not truly felt safe anymore. As a child, he had constantly suffered from paranoia and panic attacks, to the point where he had spent days without sleeping or leaving his room.

Yes, it had gotten better over time. In Regalia, he had at least not dealt with constant fear. He had learned to combat the panic attacks, but the paranoia still plagued him, especially in times of stress or trouble.

The imminent fear had returned only when he had become an outcast. That same fear he remembered from his childhood, the one he thought he had overcome. It had rushed back, now that his fears were of real threats and his paranoia was suddenly justified. Henry found that singular thought frightened him more than any of his fantasies ever had.

Then again, making himself aware of Thanatos’ presence had alleviated the fear... strangely enough. Henry didn’t even want to imagine what he’d be going through now, hadn’t the flier remained at his side. Still, the paranoia and the nightmares had been constant companions, over the last month.

Only now, in this colony, they seemed to have finally eased up, and even without the flier around, he never felt threatened or scared. Or, he was in control of the fear again, instead of the other way around. Like back in Regalia.

The nibblers had willingly accepted Henry and Thanatos in their midst, without hesitation, and they had spent the last days recovering from their ordeals in the Dead Land and the rat’s territories. Their injuries had been properly treated and for the first time in a while Henry found himself eating regularly, and more than raw fish.

To his own surprise, he felt... great. Better than he’d thought he ever could feel in exile, if anything. So much for surviving longer than anticipated, he thought gleefully, as he relished the imminent wave of pride the realization brought with itself.

The nibbler community had not only taken them in, but everyone had treated them with utmost kindness. At this point, nearly every single individual had found time to exchange a few words with them, words of welcome and gratitude for saving two of their own.

The exiled prince had briefly felt a sting of shame as he recalled having regarded the nibblers useless before. He barely knew why even anymore, so he decided to attempt and face them without prejudice, pretending he’d never had any, which had been much easier than originally anticipated, considering how kind they were with him.

They hadn’t even asked where they had come from, all Henry had told Lovelace was that he and Thanatos were living on their own and had no permanent home. He was genuinely surprised at how little the mice seemed to care about their origins – the fact they’d had enough honor to save members of their community had apparently sufficed for gaining their trust. Henry silently wondered if nobody even considered they could be spies of the rats or anything, but then again, who was he to complain?

Further, the exiled prince had somewhat familiarized himself with the tunnels they lived in, and the surrounding jungle area. He was still uncomfortable with leaving the hot spring and the beach though, especially without Thanatos, so he hadn’t done it much.

But overall, it seemed like they had ended up in this little isolated piece of heaven among hell, and he was more grateful than he would ever admit for every minute he was able to spend here.

“You coming? You come!” Henry jolted up and let out a quiet shriek as the voice called out. He had been so lost in his thoughts he had almost forgotten the little mouse on his chest. Her excited squeaks brought him back to reality. “Hey, what... where am I supposed to come?” He was still dazed from sleep, then remembered her words from earlier and added – “and... who wants to see me?”

But to his surprise, a different voice replied – “Her father. I just talked to Lovelace and she says he wanted to see both of us this morning.” Thanatos fluttered in through the entrance of their little bedroom cave, He’d had been getting up earlier than Henry, these last few days, and the exiled prince had been meaning to ask the flier what he was doing up so early, but never had had the opportunity.

“Apparently, he’s in some kind of hurry – or he’s just impatient, but I think we should probably go.” Thanatos arduously turned around, struggling with his own wingspan, making an attempt to leave again.

“W... wait, hold on a second, I didn’t even –”, but the flier had already successfully maneuvered himself out of the cave before Henry could finish his sentence. “Fantastic”, he mumbled to himself as he reluctantly stood up to follow Thanatos. “And when do we eat breakfast?”

In a far from optimal mood, Henry followed Curie and Thanatos through a winding path that led them along the outskirts of the nibbler colony. He’d just about managed to grab his water bag on the way, to drink the couple sips it had left, alongside a piece of fruit for breakfast. He had finished eating long before his stomach had seized growling, so he made a mental note to eat more than usual for lunch.

Soon they were traversing a part of the tunnel system Henry had never seen, but Curie seemed to know where she was going so they followed her without much hesitation. The exiled prince soon found himself at the entrance to a cave that was, to his surprise, separated from the tunnel by a curtain. It was the first time he’d seen any sort of door in the colony, and he wanted to ask Curie for the reason when she speeded past him and through the curtain, not waiting for her companions.

The flier and the prince exchanged glances before Henry shrugged and stepped through the curtain after her, promptly followed by Thanatos. He was greeted with bright light, a couple seemingly human-made lamps on the wall emitted, and when his eyes had adjusted to the brightness and he took his first look around the cave, his jaw dropped.

It was like the step through the curtain had taken them to an entirely different world. The cave was huge but seemed much smaller, due to the many stacks of materials and pieces of machinery cramped into it, of which Henry had never seen most. In the corner furthest away from the door, he made out the flickering of a fire, and when he stepped closer, he saw it was a fully-equipped, massive forge with bellows, anvils, and smith’s tools scattered around. The space across the forge was taken by a massive stone table covered in mechanical tools and scrolls of leather that had markings Henry didn’t understand scratched into them.

When he, at last, managed to close his agape standing mouth and take another step forward, he saw even the walls were covered in the same markings. They must have been tediously scratched into the stone, the density varied from parts of the wall that were cramped, to the point of nigh-illegibility, to sections that were untouched altogether. The cryptic symbols, some sort of text, as Henry assumed, were widely accompanied by sketches of machinery and other things he would have to inspect closer to make sense of them.

Henry’s first thought was how this place must belong to a human – never had he heard of any other species using forges, building machines, or even writing more than a couple words. He instinctively glanced around for the owner, his eyes followed Curie, who confidently ran through the stacks of materials straight to the table. She leaped onto it and ran across, jumping back down on the other side emitting a gleeful squeak.

She’d apparently landed on someone as a different voice now cried out – much less cheerful. “Aaaagh... Cu... Curie... come on, sto... AAAGH... stop that! No! No, not that, oh come on!” She giggled, and after the initial shock, the second voice joined in.

Henry moved closer, tilting his head to see who the voice belonged to, registering Thanatos’ quiet mumble behind him – “Remarkable...” only on the side. Then he thought it was probably a bad idea to touch anything and barely prevented running into a construct on the floor.

Behind the table, Henry heard rustling and then a paw appeared, soon followed by a head. The head of, no, not a human, a nibbler. His fur was pitch black and, to Henry’s surprise, a huge scar tore his right cheek down to his shoulder. Before the exiled prince could dwell on it, his gaze met the nibbler’s arms, which were covered in old burn marks. His claws were longer than those of most nibblers and at the same time showed extensive signs of use. His fur was disheveled and he had several leather belts with pockets and tools wrapped around his body.

Henry watched the black nibbler rise from behind the table, Curie happily sitting on his head. He struggled to heave himself onto the massive stone and only now spotted the newcomers. “Oh... AHHH, you must be the human and flier who saved my – NOOO GET AWAY FROM THAT...!”

Henry flinched back when the nibbler leaped at him from the table with surprising agility, yanking him away from one of the machines he had gotten closer to than he’d realized. “S... sorry”, the exiled prince muttered while inspecting the black nibbler closer, who appeared to do the same thing with Henry.

The mouse eyed him head to toe and then voiced a groan. “Really? The ONE TIME a human visits this godforsaken remote place, and he’s an imbecile. Fantastic.” He tilted his head to inspect Thanatos as well, “Lovelace told me you intended to stay for a while?”

Henry was still too taken aback by the place and this nibbler, who now started pacing around, still with Curie on his head, to formulate a coherent reply. All he did was continuously stare at him.

“They nice dada, they save me and ganpa!”, the baby mouse squeaked, before continuing in nibbler tongue.

So this was... Curie’s father – Lovelace’s partner. Now that he thought about it, Platonius had indeed mentioned something about him being a craftsman, however that was to be understood. And he had also warned he was a people-shy loner who never went out.

Henry eyed the room, then the black nibbler, and thought he started to see where that had come from. What had his name been again? The exiled prince didn’t remember.

He was so lost in thought he completely forgot the nibbler’s question. Thanatos answered for him – “A while, yes. If we may.”

“If Lovelace said you can, you can.” The black nibbler approached Henry again, who’d started inspecting the table closer. On second glance, all the scattered tools had weird-looking handles, like the prince had never seen before. He lifted his hand to pick one up and look at it closer, but a scarred, ragged paw grabbed it first.

“Hey! Do – not – TOUCH!”

Henry twirled around and was faced with the nibbler, who now picked up the tool himself. “I do not like it when people touch my things. Everything here”, he strode over to the forge, gesturing around the room, “is in EXACTLY the place I want it to be, and I will not have my order disrupted!”

Henry raised an eyebrow as his gaze met the scattered tools and silently asked himself if the nibbler had truly just referred to the utter chaos around them as “order”.

Then again, the mess around them was not the point right now. “Okay, but”, Henry put his hands to his hips, his patience was slowly but surely running out, “Then why in the world did you tell us to come here in the first place?” He was hungry and tired and had about enough of people treating him so condescendingly. Thanatos did it all the time, and now this nibbler as well. He had had about enough.

“Because”, the nibbler turned around to fixate his unusual green eyes on him, “I wanted to thank you. In person.” He stood up straight now and Curie climbed from his head to his shoulder, starting to gnaw on one of the thick leather belts he had wrapped around his body with her tiny teeth. “For saving my daughter and her grandfather. It is not often you come across such heroism in the land of the rats.”

“It was nothing”, Thanatos responded. “Just because we are outcasts, that doesn’t mean we do not care for saving those in the same situation as us, who cannot save themselves.”

“Is that so?”, the black nibbler asked, eyeing Henry specifically. His gaze showed wisdom and experience, but the exiled prince thought he saw something else in it too.

“Yes”, he looked Curie’s father in the eyes. And this time he meant it. The nibbler smiled. “Good. Then I might be able to use you after all.”

“Use us?”, Henry frowned. “What the hell do you mean by...”, but the black mouse interrupted him – “Not you – YOU!” He pointed at Henry. Then his eyes met Thanatos, “But do not fret you’ll have to sit on your lazy butt the entire day”, he called in his direction, “I’m sure Lovelace will find a way for you to make yourself useful as well. That’s the thing she does best. Making people work.” He laughed more. “Well, except for me, I don’t need her to do it.”

So they would make them work. Thanatos and Henry exchanged glances, the flier’s was much more optimistic than that of the prince.

“What, did you think we were going to just let you sit around, twiddling your thumbs?”, the black nibbler shook his head and grinned. “If you wish to stay, you’ll have to help where you can. And I just so happen to have waited for a human to come here for... well, a long time. As much as I pride myself on being able to do a lot on my own, some things are simply impossible without hands like yours.”

“You seem indeed able to do a lot on your own, this place is incredible”, the flier sounded from behind Henry and the nibbler nodded.

Hands like his – of course, his request made sense. Humans were widely known as the only species able to build machines because they had thumbs. Henry made a mental note to ask someone, preferably Lovelace, later, how her partner had acquired all that was lying around in this cave, seemingly without human help.

“So... you want me to work for you?” Henry sounded hesitant. He’d only met the black mouse a few minutes ago, and he already sensed he was hard to be around.

“Yes. And don’t worry, you’re not going to have to hurt your little brain trying to think, I just need you for the manual part of my work.”

Henry was about to shoot back at him for the insult when Thanatos interrupted him – “That is a GREAT idea, he LOVES manual labor – don’t you?” He didn’t even wait for a response – “and who knows, maybe you’ll even succeed where I failed, namely at teaching this brat some manners and maybe even an ounce of discipline. Well, good luck!” With that, he spread his wings, careful not to destroy anything, and was out of the cave within seconds. Henry was left to stare after him, blinking in disbelief.

The black nibbler’s laugh snapped him out of his daze. “So that’s how it’s going to be”, he mumbled, turning to Henry. “Well, it seems like he decided for you.” The exiled prince sighed. “Seems... like it.”

“Well, you can start by working that bellow over there. I’ll need the fire hotter.” The nibbler pointed at the forge and mumbled something to Curie, who squealed excitedly, jumped off his shoulder, and whizzed out of the workshop.

Henry sighed, eyeing the massive bellow in the corner. No, I do not like manual labor, he thought, still mad at Thanatos for just leaving him like that. But what was he to do, at this point?

Henry sighed and began making his way over to the forge, reluctantly accepting his fate, when he suddenly twirled around again – “Hey, wait, you’re not even going to tell me your name?”

The response came instantly – “Oh right, I nearly forgot. It’s Teslas.”

“The guy is nothing short of a slave driver!”, Henry complained, plopping down at the nibblers’ equivalent of a dinner table, using all his willpower to not collapse from exhaustion on the spot.

Teslas had had him work either the bellow or carry all sorts of heavy equipment the entire day – not even a lunch break he’d granted him. Yet the worst part was how none of the work had even required thumbs. Like he’s trying to annoy me on purpose, the exiled prince groaned. He was dead on his feet and nearly starved.

Thanatos did not pay his worn state too much attention. “Good – maybe you’ll ACTUALLY learn some discipline then.” He himself had been far better off, Lovelace had had him fly a few errands, but that did not even remotely compare to the drudgery Henry had been subjected to. “Oh shut up”, he sulked, though found himself thinking, as exhausting as the day had been, it had been extremely fascinating to see Teslas work.

Never would he have thought so many things were possible for someone without thumbs, but for one, the nibbler had the handles of his tools adjusted so that they were easier to hold and use. For the other, he owned a most intriguing part of equipment, being a pair of glove-like pieces of leather, to which some of his tools could be attached directly. For the things that couldn’t, they had artificial clamps where humans had a thumb. That way he could fixate and hold even normal handles fairly well.

Henry opened his mouth to describe how Teslas worked when someone else caught his attention. “Hey, Lovelace”, he had been meaning to ask her about her partner and when he spotted her entering the room to eat with them, he saw his chance.

“Yes?” She approached and laughed, as she noticed how done in he looked. “Teslas does know how to make one work, doesn’t he?” Henry sighed and rolled his eyes. “Oh, he DOES. But... hey, can I ask you something about him?”

For the first time, he considered what words to use to not sound rude, but the colony leader guessed what he wanted to ask. “You want to know how he acquired his tools and his skill?”, she threw him a knowing gaze. “I am aware of how unexpected, even strange, it must be for you, as a human, to find a skilled craftsman among another species. And as much as it might surprise you, the explanation for it shouldn’t.”

“Oh?” Henry took the first bite from his second grilled fish, hastily chewing and taking in the food he had missed the entire day. Lovelace nodded and sat down across from him. Her daughter soon joined, as did Platonius and a few others.

Upon reaching for her first fish, she started talking. “Well, perhaps it is best if I begin with how all of this started.” The colony leader stared at the ceiling, most likely indulging in memories. “Teslas was... well, he was always... special. Our peaceful, uneventful life here was never enough for him. He told me, back then, there were so many ideas in his head, and not a single of them he thought he would ever be able to realize. At times, he felt like his head was going to explode from overcrowding. So when he came of age, he left.”

“Left?”, Henry echoed, “Where did he go?”

She had claimed it wouldn’t earlier, but Lovelace’s response surprised him. “To live with you. With the humans.”

“He... he went to live in Regalia?” The exiled prince found himself genuinely bewildered. He searched his memory for any mention of a nibbler living in their city but found none.

“No”, Lovelace responded, “not Regalia. The second settlement you have, the one close to our brothers and sisters who live at the Fount.”

“Oh... is that so? What did he do there?” Henry thought it made more sense that he’d never heard of Teslas if he had stayed at the Fount. He had never cared much for anything that happened over there.

“Yes. There he stayed to study, and later work. He told me, back then, he had learned from the most skillful inventor the humans had had at the time, he further said she helped him make the gloves he uses to replace thumbs, and everything else he brought with him when he came back.”

A teacher – a human teacher. That explained a lot, though instantly the question came to mind – “Did he ever mention who she was?”

But Lovelace shook her head. “Not that I remember. He might have mentioned her name at some point, but if he did, I’ve long forgotten. His return lies eight years in the past now.”

“Eight years? Wow, he has been living in that cave for a while then”, Henry mumbled and shook his head, he doubted Teslas had lived anywhere else since he’d returned.

“Yes.” Lovelace joined in his laughter, “Though he had stayed with the humans for ten”, she smiled. “Most of us had given up hope he’d ever return at that point. But then, one day... he was back, as suddenly as he had disappeared, all those years ago.”

She shook her head, “He said his teacher had died, and that it had been time to return to his own people, with all the ideas and inventions he’d collected by that point. And as you guessed, he’s not left his cave much since, except for when we were expecting our first pups, around five years ago.” Her gaze met that of two grown mice, one light grey, one cream-colored, they were sitting at the opposite side of the dinner table and seemed to be in deep conversation with each other.

Henry wondered if they were Curie’s siblings, but before he could ask, Lovelace continued – “And, of course, when Curie was born.” She threw him a bittersweet smile. “You know, our people here greatly admire him for what he did and is still doing for us.” Her gaze left him again to trail towards the exit of the cave, admiration for her partner shining in her eyes. “He’s found so many ways to make our lives easier – improved the light system we have here, built a contraption that helps us catch fish, and so much more. Most of us are learned scholars, but none have the skills to work with their hands, like him.”

Scholars – that sounded more like what he’d heard of the nibblers. From what he remembered Vikus had explained at some point, they were usually invested in their studies, often working with the humans too – math, geometry, geology, and other types of science, but he’d never heard of one actively building or inventing gadgetry.

Henry stared down at his empty plate, he had eaten so much he thought he’d burst would he take even a single bite more. So Teslas had spent ten years of his life among the humans at the Fount – and studied under a teacher, a human, who had helped him make most of the gadgets he used to work now. Henry had to admit he was intrigued. Maybe he’d be able to ask the inventor himself for the identity of his teacher, when – if – he returned to work for him the next day.

The exiled prince raised his gaze from his plate to look around, at the happily chatting mice around him, and the richly served table and realized his dilemma was no dilemma at all.

Of course he would return. If that was the price he had to pay to stay here, he would.


	12. Student

Henry groaned, stretched, to get the feeling back into his arms, and tried to catch his breath after carrying what had felt like hundreds of stacks of something Teslas called “Basalt”. It had been just as heavy and useless as any other rock though.

“Hey, kid, there is one more left!”, the nibbler called from somewhere behind his work table, and Henry sighed as he reluctantly trotted back through the curtain to get the last stack.

“Nice work, I suppose you can take a break if you want – but if you feel the need to leave, don’t go too far away, I want you up working the bellow in no more than ten minutes.”

Henry did not even look at him as Teslas spoke. Instead, he immediately collapsed beside the wall at the word “break”. He thought he should probably eat the lunch he had packed, as the chances were high this day would go similarly to the last one, concerning a lunch break, but he was too tired to even lift his arms.

Henry’s strained muscles complained as they caught their first idle moment of the day. He had already woken up stiff and sore from yesterday, and it had gotten nothing but worse since.

Only yesterday he had agreed to work for Teslas, and the black nibbler had kept him on his toes, ever since the earliest morning hours. Thanatos had been gone for equally as long, he was to accompany a trading party and carry the goods they intended to sell to some crawlers, inhabiting a region east of the jungle. And while he was freely flying through some caves, chatting with the mice from the party, Henry was here – hauling “Basalt”. Well, at least I am getting a good workout out of this, he tried hard not to facepalm from irony.

After having caught his breath, the exiled prince managed to lift himself up and finally fetch his backpack. He took out the portion of dried fish he’d packed for lunch and ate, before reaching for his water bag. Only as he tasted the cool, refreshing water, he realized how thirsty he had been, and ended up drinking the entire thing in one go. He’d have to ask Teslas for a break to refill it later.

After the meal had restored some energy to his body, that wasn’t used to manual labor, he remembered what he’d wanted to ask the nibbler.

“Hey, I talked to Lovelace a bit yesterday, and she told me you used to live at the Fount with the humans, for ten entire years!”

Teslas’ head appeared from behind a stack of his papers. “Yes, though that was a long time ago. Why do you bring it up?”

“I was wondering... Lovelace further said you studied under a human inventor back then, she taught you how to build stuff... and helped you with your... eh... custom tools.”

“She did. What about it?”

“Who was she?”, Henry asked, at last. “I... I mean, Lovelace couldn’t remember and I thought I might...” – “... ask me personally?”, the nibbler finished his sentence. The exiled prince just nodded.

Teslas looked away. “Well, she was...”, he sighed. “How... badly do you need to know?” He twitched uncomfortably and Henry could tell he didn’t want to talk about her. What he couldn’t tell, was for what reason.

“What do you mean?”, the exiled prince held his gaze on the nibbler, pretending he hadn’t noticed his unease. “I mean, I’d like to know. Is there a problem with telling me?”

Teslas fumbled with something resembling a measuring tool. “I owe her a lot. How I can run this workshop, and most of my skills... She was a remarkable inventor. The best the humans had at the time.”

Henry remembered Lovelace using the exact same words to describe her. He impatiently fiddled with his backpack, thinking he should probably put it back to where he had previously stored it, before continuing to work. “Yes, but who was she?”

Teslas did not look at him. “If you truly need to know... Her... her name was... Victoria.”

Henry barely prevented his backpack from slipping out of his hands. His head started spinning and he slowly turned around to face the nibbler. “V... Victoria? Like... like...”

Teslas fixated his gaze on him, “... like Princess Victoria, wife of Prince Jason, late King Nicolas’ younger brother.”

It was as if someone had delivered a blow to his face. All Henry could do was stand there and stare at the black nibbler – his arms full of scars from his work, his fur ruffled and not tended to, as if he didn’t even have the time for something like that, and his eyes – deep, passionate and wise, looking at him, now with a hint of compassion.

He knows, Henry thought, and an icy shiver ran down his spine.

In accordance with his worst fears, Teslas continued – “From what I remember, she had children – two of them. A younger girl, born four years after I arrived, and an older boy... a boy of the name...”

“... Henry”, he spoke his own name with a trembling voice, desperately trying to calm the screaming in his head.

Teslas was quiet for a second. “Yes, Henry. The Henry standing before me now.” He sighed. “I smelled it was you from the beginning – your scent is similar to hers in a way I could have never overlooked.”

The exiled prince was physically unable to speak. His mother – his own mother, whom he had seen so little throughout his childhood...

He remembered lying in bed countless nights, knowing she wouldn’t come home again, making up stories, excuses, what kind of important, life-changing things she had to be busy with that left her no time for her own children. He had wanted to believe all of them so badly – he had calmed Nerissa by telling them to her when she had woken up at night again, after one of her visions, crying for her mother.

And here it was, the simple and naked truth. The truth as to what had been so important she had neglected her family, left him and Nerissa to the nurses. They hadn’t particularly mistreated them, but they hadn’t been parents. Family.

Hot, seething anger started to boil up in his stomach and lumped his throat. Henry’s vision blurred and he faintly registered his backpack slipping from his grasp, falling apart on impact, and spilling its contents on the floor. But he couldn’t bother with that. Not now.

“Oh, I get it”, he took a step closer, “so THAT’S why I only got to see her on special occasions, THAT’S WHY it was always me calming my baby sister after a nightmare when she was in truth calling for our mother!”

Somewhere in the back of his head, Henry knew he shouldn’t let his anger out on Teslas, it wasn’t his fault, but he couldn’t stop the torrent of words spilling from his mouth anymore.

“Because she preferred TO PLAY AROUND and MAKE TOYS FOR A NIBBLER over CARING FOR HER FAMILY!” Only after the words had left Henry’s mouth, he fully processed their meaning and the overwhelming pain of the truth burned through his chipped heart like acid.

Henry couldn’t stop tears from rising in his eyes. He barely made out how Teslas climbed over his own desk, towards him, speaking – saying... something, but the exiled prince didn’t listen. Blinded by pain and fury, he stormed out of the workshop, somehow finding his way out of the tunnel system to the beach and the hot spring, barely dodging the quicksand next to the vine curtain.

For once he didn’t care if the jungle was treacherous or deadly, he just ran. Further and further away from the nibbler camp, until even the last sign and sound of the waterfall had faded and all he could hear were the by now familiar chirps of the jungle.

Henry stopped at a huge rock that stood more than ten feet tall among the vines, which were now the only light sources illuminating his surroundings. He pressed his forehead against the cold stone, considering banging it against it a few times to make it stop thinking.

He had always suspected his parents’ reasons for leaving his and Nerissa’s upbringing to nurses weren’t as honorable as he would have liked to believe. But hearing the truth like this, from a complete stranger – a stranger who she preferred over you, who was fun and interesting to be around, understood and shared her interests... Who wasn’t a whiny, disobedient child that meant work and only ever asked stupid questions.

Henry clenched his fists, pressing them against the stone. It wasn’t like either of his parents had ever been very loving towards him or Nerissa. When they had spent time together, it had usually been at formal events or family activities, organized by Vikus and Solovet.

I shouldn’t be surprised, he thought. I really shouldn’t. The cold stone soothed his burning skin and the jungle noises rang in his ears, deafeningly loud. But Henry minded them little.

His father had constantly been out on military duty, he, Solovet, and Luxa’s other uncle Hamnet had been the highest-ranking officials in the Regalian army at the time. That essentially meant he had been home even less than his mother, who, as he had now learned, had preferred to spend her time with Teslas.

Henry couldn’t tell how long he remained at that rock, pressing his cheek against the cool surface, and cried. The tears wouldn’t stop, and for once he didn’t even mind too much. It wasn’t like anyone could see him anyway. Luckily. The full extent of his own miserable failure buried him, seeking to crush him under its weight. He had failed, failed in not realizing sooner, in telling himself lies.

How much had she and his father even cared about their children? His memories of his parents were faded and vague, he’d been eight years old when they had died, and yet he had spent so little time with them he had trouble remembering even their faces. The only question remaining was, after what he had just found out, did he even want to remember?

When the tears finally dried and his last strength left him, Henry sank down, leaning against the same rock, with his legs pulled to his chest. For a while he did nothing but stare out into the jungle, taking in sounds, smells, lights.

It was good to not think, but he couldn’t block the thoughts out forever. After what could have been minutes or hours of silence, he began to ponder on what he should do now. He had never been good at knowing what he wanted, and now, the only thing he knew for certain was, that he wouldn’t be able to stay here.

He knew Teslas had done him no harm personally, but seeing his face every day would mean being reminded of what he had told him, and Henry didn’t want to remember. He, in fact, wanted nothing more than to wipe his brain clear of the last few hours, however many it had been.

He squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly immensely frustrated with the persistent jungle noises. Was there not a single place to get some peace and quiet around here? His parents were dead, they had been for eight years now. Before himself, Henry finally admitted that, in truth, he had never wanted to get answers to all his questions about them. No, he had wished to continue telling himself the pretty lies.

Lying to yourself was weak. It was stupid, and pathetic, and weak. Henry writhed in disgust for feeling this way, but he failed to do anything about it. How even?

He gritted his teeth painfully as he thought of the many things he had lost, this last month – his home, his remaining family, his friends, his bond, and every single person who had ever meant anything to him. At this point, he’d probably be thankful for the company of even Howard or Stellovet, Luxa’s despised cousins from the Fount.

Now it seemed like he had lost his parents as well – a second time.

After what felt like an eternity, Henry found the strength to stand up again. His legs were weak and his entire body hurt from the hard work he wasn’t used to. But he couldn’t sit idle forever, lamenting his misery. He needed to find his way back – to pack.

“The hell you doing now again?”

The exiled prince didn’t look up when the familiar voice sounded behind him. He had, after wandering around in the jungle for nearly half an hour, finally found his way back, and now kneeled on the floor in his and Thanatos’ little bedchamber cave, collecting his few possessions, carelessly stuffing his pockets with them.

When Henry stood up, his sword in hand, ready to shove the flier aside if necessary, he froze mid-movement as he realized his backpack was still in Teslas’ workshop.

“Henry?”

The exiled prince, at last, spun around and nearly hit his head on the low ceiling, shooting the flier a frustrated death glare. “Well, what does it LOOK LIKE I’m doing, Death, I’m PACKING!”, he finally hissed, clenching his sword tighter.

Thanatos made a half surprised, half amused sound. “Oh? What in the world did you do to have Lovelace kick you out?” He was clearly attempting to humor him, but Henry wasn’t having any of it. Not now.

“She didn’t kick me out! Can... can you leave me?!” With a loud thud, his sword hit the floor as Henry released his grip on it. “I can’t stay here, that’s all, so get out of my way!” He attempted to sound angry, yet couldn’t entirely prevent his voice from cracking.

Thanatos caught on instantly and his tone shifted from the usual mocking to concern – “Hey, Henry... were you crying? What happened?”

Before he could finish, the exiled prince scoffed, interrupting him – “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

He attempted to squeeze out of the cave, past Thanatos, but the flier blocked his path. Annoyed, Henry bit his lip and glared at him with narrowed eyes. “Come on! Is that so hard to understand? I will leave, if you want to stay, you can. Just... stop asking questions... please.”

Even if he had wanted to, Henry wouldn’t have had the words to talk to the flier about his parents. He couldn’t even admit the truth to himself without crying. How could he ever voice it to another?

Frustratedly, Henry managed to push Thanatos aside, who gave in and made way, not without glancing after the exiled prince with concern until he disappeared out of sight.

His own heated steps echoed through the tunnel painfully loud as he made his way to Teslas’ cave one final time, for his backpack. When he, at last, reached the tunnel that led to the nibbler’s workshop, Henry bit his lip, hesitating for a second. Light was seeping out from beneath the curtain, otherwise, the exiled prince was standing in complete darkness. He’d go in, get his stuff, and leave. It couldn’t be that hard, could it?

Determinately, he took another step forward, only to almost collide with someone. Henry blinked a few times, to help his eyes adjust to the darkness when he finally made out the shape of Teslas, who had now emerged from a side tunnel.

A jolt of discomfort ran through his body as he stumbled a couple steps back when the black nibbler grabbed his arm – “Henry, there you are!” His voice was strained with concern. “I was looking for you everywhere, where in the world did you disappear to?”

All Henry did was glare at him, attempting to free himself from his grasp. “Leave me ALONE!”, he cried, trying to free himself from the nibbler’s surprisingly strong grip.

“No, Henry, wait! You have to listen to me. Hey, hey – listen to me, please.” Teslas shook him until Henry turned his head to face his way. “You will want to hear this.”

The exiled prince didn’t respond. He only stared at the nibbler in angry defiance and bit his lip, to the point where it hurt.

Teslas carefully pulled him towards the curtain and Henry found he had little strength to resist. “Hey, look, I... I shouldn’t have told you what I did, the way I did. I’m... not the best with people, and in hindsight I realize what I said was tactless, to say the least.”

“It was the truth. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Henry stood straight again and nearly didn’t recognize his own voice, so much bitterness cloaked it now.

“No, no, no... that’s the point, you misunderstood me. Henry, your mother didn’t prefer me over you or your family. She loved you, greatly – I know that.” The exiled prince barely suppressed a dismissive snort, instead, he bit his lip even harder, averting his gaze from the nibbler. But not of shame this time.

Teslas sighed. “Come on, we’ll go in, sit down for a second, and I’ll tell you the entire story. That and, I have something for you, actually. But first, you have to promise me you’ll listen.” Henry forgot his anger for a second as his curiosity poked its head up and he nodded mechanically.

While he didn’t know what the nibbler wanted to tell him, at this point, he had nothing to lose anymore regardless. And there was no other way to get his hands on his backpack again than to go back to the workshop either, so he might as well.

He reluctantly followed Teslas through the curtain and past various contraptions and machines. Not even their purpose or workings intrigued him at this moment. He paid them no attention and plopped down on the floor in an empty spot, leaning against the cold stone wall.

The nibbler remained standing, stared at him for a second, and then started anxiously pacing. “Alright, listen, the first thing you have to know is that, when you were born, two years into my stay at the Fount, the first thing your mother told me was that she couldn’t continue working with me. She would move back to Regalia from her workshop at the Fount permanently to spend time with her new family. By the time the order from the king arrived, I had already packed my things to leave.”

“Order from the king?” Henry raised his gaze from the stain on the floor he had been staring at to look at the nibbler, at last.

“Yes, the king – your uncle. He had been the one who had granted me permission to stay and study under Victoria, and had also been keeping a keen eye on my progress. He was a strong supporter of sharing knowledge and inter-species projects with us nibblers as well as others.”

“But what order?”

Teslas sighed. “The order for Victoria to take over the design, construction, and supervision of a new security system for Regalia. It was a, back then, badly needed and long overdue project she had wanted to undertake for a long time. When Nicolas finally granted her permission that day she changed her mind and asked me to stay and help.” Teslas smiled sadly, glancing in Henry’s direction. “And that I did.”

The exiled prince swallowed, lowering his eyes back to the floor. His story sounded so simple and plausible. He even faintly remembered his mother repeatedly mentioning something about a security system during various family celebrations and activities.

Henry stared at the stain and a wave of shame, for how immensely stupid and rash he had behaved earlier, hit him. He’d acted exactly like the whiny, difficult child he had not wanted to be.

Teslas took a deep breath. “This very project ended up taking far longer than anticipated, as we had to abandon and heavily alter our plans multiple times until we were satisfied. We had spent nearly six years trying to perfect it, and at last, we did. Nicolas was so happy with the result and our work he immediately told us to undertake upgrades to several other systems in Regalia, among which the lighting and the canalization. We had improved all of them massively, before –”

“– before she died, eight years ago.”

“Yes. It was a tragic day for the entire human race, especially her and her husband’s family, and all your allies – me as well.” Teslas paused for a moment, leaning on the table and turning his gaze down at the floor. “You can hate me for it if you want, but I miss her greatly. Every day.”

The exiled prince stared at him for a moment, sensing the pain radiating from his body – and, instead of contempt, a wave of sympathy for the black nibbler hit him. “I don’t hate you.”

The nibbler’s eyes widened in surprise and the exiled prince took a deep breath – “I wronged you.” He didn’t even attempt to hide the regret in his voice. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run away, I should have listened to you right away and...”

But Teslas didn’t let him finish. “Stop. Henry, stop. You did nothing wrong.” He carefully took a step closer. “You’re a kid who lost his parents at a young age, after presumably spending way too little time with them. Anyone in your situation would have been upset.”

He was standing directly in front of the exiled prince now. “How about this – you were rash to judge and I was tactless, we both didn’t approach the situation correctly, we now know, and we can leave it at that. Agreed?”

Henry stared at him suspiciously for a moment, before he, at last, nodded, even if only hesitantly.

“And besides”, the black nibbler finally sat down next to him, “I would not worry if I were you. The sheer amount she talked about you, and later your sister, during work, was, if I’m being entirely honest, a huge pain to endure.” He snorted, despite his smile. “She would never shut up about you, not for a single moment. Even at inappropriate times.”

Henry narrowed his eyes at the nibbler, unable to suppress the hope now rising within him – “Really? What... did she say?”

Teslas laughed louder. “I had a feeling you would ask. Sadly, as I said, I usually stopped listening at any of your names. No offense.”

Henry scoffed but then shook his head in amusement. “None taken.”

“It was mostly the usual, from what I remember”, Teslas muttered after a moment of hesitation, “she described any occasion she got to see you in every detail. Further, she kept going on about how she was proud of you and wished you a happy and safe life, and all that stuff.”

Henry let out a short laugh. “Well that wish certainly came true”, he said, feeling a sting of shame at what had become of him, and how his mother would react, could she see him now. He was certain a life in exile was not what she had wished for his future to look like. It made him almost glad she had never lived to see her son become a traitor.

Teslas shook his head. “I would be lying if I claimed it does not interest me greatly as to how, out of all people, Victoria’s own son, the Prince of Regalia, ended up an outcast. But I won’t force you to tell me if you don’t want.”

Henry nodded, realizing he liked the black nibbler more with every second. “Maybe someday I will.”

After a moment of comfortable silence, he suddenly remembered something – “Hey Teslas?”, Henry took a deep breath – “If you could do one more thing for me... I know you know who I am now, but... would it kill you to keep that a secret? Everyone kind of... either thinks I’m dead or would have me killed – or both – so, it would mean a lot to me if you wouldn’t give my identity or name away mindlessly.”

Teslas laughed. “You are doing a great job at fueling my curiosity in this regard, but yes, I can certainly do that.”

Henry shot him a smile. “Thank you.”

The black nibbler didn’t answer, instead, he stood up again and made his way over to his table. “Hey, I said I had something for you. That wasn’t a lie.” He shoved a few papers aside and picked up something from the table, before returning with it to where the exiled prince was still sitting.

A torn, visibly antique and tattered, book fell into Henry’s lap from the nibbler’s paw. “There. It belonged to her. I was given permission to take it when I left, but I think you should be the one to have it.”

He stared at Teslas with his mouth agape for a second before turning his attention to... His fingers trembled as Henry carefully picked up the book with the yellowed pages and the countless earmarks. He hesitantly opened it and recognized the neat and pristine hand of his mother that covered the pages in text and sketches.

It was her notebook.

His memory flashed back to a day when he had been around four and his mother had surprisingly had some spare time. She had written in this very book and he had wanted to see what she was doing. She had picked him up and they had gone over her notes together.

Henry remembered not a single thing of what she had explained that day, only how fascinated he had been by the pictures. But when he had wanted to draw something as well, she had denied it and sent him to bed.

“It contains all her inventions, some realized, some which will forever remain ideas”, Teslas’ voice disrupted his thoughts. “The ones I could, I built, the rest – I would need a partner, a human, for. It is of no further use to me and while I dislike parting with it, you deserve it more than I do.”

Henry suddenly found it hard to suppress tears. He moved his finger along the strange and yet familiar seeming words, attempting to blink the ones away that had watered his eyes. Tracing the bleached out, partially tainted lines she had written so long ago, his mother seemed closer than she ever had, since her death.

When Henry flicked through to the latter half of the book, he widened his eyes in surprise as he found the last third or so of the pages was still empty. “It’s not finished.”

Teslas nodded. “As you know better than most, your mother’s death was premature. She didn’t have enough time to fill all the pages.”

As he stared at the blank, yellowed page in front of him, Henry knew what he had to do. He hesitated for a second, but as daunting as it was, his path was clear.

He took a deep breath, closed the notebook, and stood up. “I have a proposition for you”, his voice sounded more confident than it had the entire day. Teslas eyed him curiously. “I’m listening.”

Henry swallowed. “I will work for you. I will help you wherever you need me, be it finishing my mother’s work, or hauling packs of that “Basalt”-stuff. And in return –”, he fixated his gaze on the nibbler, “in return, you will teach me.”

Teslas’ eyes widened in surprise. “Teach you... what?”

Henry rolled his eyes, “talking to rocks – no, your craft, of course.” In his head, he went over everything this nibbler could teach him, that would make life as an outcast easier, “you know, building things, tools, leather, fur, filtering water, oh I’m sure you can name a hundred more skills I’ll be thankful for at a later time.”

Teslas eyed him curiously now, head to toe, as if assessing whether Henry was worthy of such an honor. “You... are truly interested in learning from me?”

With a hint of shame, Henry averted his eyes. Only a month ago he’d have laughed at the thought of studying under someone from a different species, especially in the one craft humans were the experts in – but now?

He understood the things this nibbler could teach him could potentially decide between life and death out in the Dead Land. And as much as he enjoyed his stay at the colony, he knew he couldn’t – and probably wouldn’t want to – stay forever. If Teslas himself had gotten bored of the life here when he had been young, Henry couldn’t imagine himself not meeting the same fate after a while. There was no way.

For now, he understood he had to do the one thing that would increase his chances of survival later – he needed to ask for lessons. The same kind he’d deliberately slept in as a kid – well, at least somewhat.

Henry sighed. Maybe Thanatos had been right, maybe the one thing he had needed was indeed some humility. He took a deep breath – “Yes. Yes, I am. Well, that and maybe you could –”, he hesitated, averting his gaze to stare at the table.

“I could what?”

The exiled prince shrugged and could not suppress a little smile. “Oh, I don’t know – but...”, his eyes darted back over to Teslas, “...if I ever come up with something I could use your help for, you know, all in the honor of my mother, of course, I want to be able to count on your help.”

Teslas’ eyes widened in surprise, but Henry further spotted trace amounts of excitement, before he started laughing. “Oh – I should have seen that coming. Of course, I’ll help you – IF your idea is good, that is. Speaking of that – you have something in mind, don’t you?”

Henry found his thoughts indeed flying to a particular thing, that had lingered in his mind for a while now. He saw the rats who had wanted to push him off the cliff, him and Thanatos butchering them all and – a brazier, a sword... Then his mind reeled back to his childhood, the old nursery, and the colorful, fantastic murals on its walls. One that had always fascinated him, one he had thought was purely fictional, up until...

“What if it’s... innovative – dangerous – potentially revolutionary, and... genuinely just... well, crazy?”

Teslas blinked a few times, then he grinned – “I’m in.”

Henry widened his eyes, “What? But I haven’t even told you...” – “No need, boy. You had me at “genuinely just crazy”.” His gaze shone mischievously, “All your mother’s son then, aren’t you? Well, in that case, you should learn quickly.” He turned around to face the table again, “and if you don’t... well, there’s always the bellow in that case.”

Both of them broke into relieved laughter.

After they had calmed, Teslas’ gaze landed on the far corner of the table. There, he had laid out the things that had fallen out of Henry’s backpack – together with the remains of the bag itself.

“You maybe want to get a new backpack...” He held the tattered pieces of leather, that had fallen apart earlier, up and Henry sighed. “Eh, it was on its last legs anyway, this last month. I’ll ask Lovelace...”

He reluctantly stared at his few possessions, unsure as to what to do with them, when Teslas suddenly pushed him aside. “Hey, not to be overly snoopy or anything, but... I took notice of this earlier, and...” He picked out the tooth Henry had taken from King Gorger and stared at it, visibly fascinated. “Is that an actual gnawer tooth?”

The exiled prince shrugged and nodded. “Yes, I originally wanted to make some sort of dagger out of it, but I couldn’t, so I... well, gave up on it, I guess.”

The nibbler now inspected the tooth closer, he had taken a magnifying glass from a shelf and was completely occupied with the item. “A... dagger, you say...”, he mumbled, grabbing a different tool, this time it was one for measuring. He seemed to have completely forgotten about Henry and focused all his attention on the tooth.

“Hey, I know it’s somewhat crazy, but...” Before Henry could finish his sentence, Teslas interrupted him – “Out, now! Shoo! I don’t need your help today. We can start honoring your mother tomorrow. For now, you should tell your flier about our agreement, and Lovelace too. Besides, you must be starving! And tired! So go!” He made an attempt to shove Henry out of the door, clutching Gorger’s tooth like it was some valuable treasure.

“Hey, Thanatos isn’t MY –”, but Teslas disregarded his complaints. “And don’t forget the rest of your things!”

Henry reluctantly picked them up, barely able to carry everything in his bare hands, and wondered if he should demand the tooth, but then he came to the conclusion he didn’t need it anyway, so he left it with Teslas. Moments later he unwillingly stepped through the curtain, leaving the inventor to his business.

Henry opened his eyes. He knew from the buzzing sounds of the colony around him it had to be the next morning, and he wanted to close them again immediately.

He slowly attempted to move his limbs and groaned in pain. _He LOVES manual labor! _Henry gritted his teeth and cursed Thanatos for doing this to him when he remembered he was now doing it to himself. Voluntarily.

The exiled prince had spent the last evening talking to both Thanatos and Lovelace about his agreement with Teslas, even if he’d left his mother out for now. Lovelace had been positively surprised, apparently, he’d never uttered the wish to pass his knowledge on to anyone, though she seemed to like the idea he would have more company from now on. Thanatos had only concluded that meant Henry intended to stay for longer than originally planned. In truth, he had no idea how long he would stay, and he didn’t want to pretend he knew either.

“Hey Henry, your new teacher waits for you – he seemed pretty impatient, from what I gathered!” Thanatos’ voice from the entrance to their sleeping cave disrupted his thoughts. Henry groaned louder, wishing he would have asked Teslas to not start so early in the morning.

He rolled over, struggling to control his own aching body, and nearly overlooked an elongated package wrapped in leather, that someone had apparently left at his side while he had slept. He raised his head and opened his mouth, intending to ask Thanatos if he knew anything about it, but the flier was already gone.

Intrigued, Henry managed to pull himself into an upright position and picked up the package. He carefully unrolled the leather and when the item that had been wrapped in it fell out, his jaw dropped.

As it was now he barely recognized it, but the material from which the meticulously carved and sharpened blade in his hand had been cut, was so unique it would have been impossible to mistake for anything else.

Henry stared at it for a moment, then carefully took the, now defined and wrapped in stripes of leather, handle up and excitedly inspected King Gorger’s tooth. Processed virtually beyond recognition into what had to be the most unique blade Henry had ever seen.

Though, as he weighed it in his hand, his initial euphoria let up. It was a blade, alright, but it was much too fragile and light, in its current state, to be used as a weapon.

Finally, he lowered the tooth and his gaze landed on the piece of leather it had been wrapped in. He spotted writing on it and carefully set the blade aside, taking the leather up to read what it said. The hand was messy and all over the place, but Henry made out the words –

_You gave me an idea, and you gave me the material. Nothing else required, really._

_Have fun with it – and don’t even think about so much as making a scratch on it before we can reinforce it, yeah?_

_Teslas_

He caught himself grinning widely. In a single night, the nibbler had accomplished what he had given up on long ago – and he was even willing to work on it further, if the note could be believed.

Henry struggled to pull himself to his feet, knowing very well he had to get a move on, aching limbs or not, and stuck the new dagger into his belt. He’d thank Teslas for it when he would get the chance.

For now, he had to go. He was expected, and he didn’t intend to be late on his first day of work.


	13. Ignifer

* * *

Utter and all-consuming darkness surrounded Henry as he lied on his back, in an unused side tunnel close to Teslas’ workshop. Yet now he felt not like it suffocated him. Henry thought he could even be at peace, weren’t it for his nagging boredom, as he tried his best to focus only on the piercing sound his fingers produced when he snapped them repeatedly.

He hated waiting so much.

Click, click. A vision of the ceiling above flashed in his mind, vague and somewhat blurry, but still recognizable. As Henry focused better he received a clearer image, he could now even make out a small indentation, about an inch in diameter, directly above his head.

Click. The wall on his left was strikingly close, the vision was much more detailed for it. He recognized every crevice, every dent, and ledge.

Click. The one on his right was much further away, the tunnel was around four or so feet wide and Henry had to focus all his senses on the wall to make out details.

Then again, his head turned back into a forward position, there was nothing incredibly interesting or worth focusing on about the wall. A frustrated sigh escaped his mouth as he attempted to assess how much time had passed. What had Teslas said? An hour? Wasn’t an hour long over? It certainly felt like it. Henry had to suppress the urge to get on his feet and check what was taking the nibbler so long.

The exiled prince had made it a habit to practice echolocation whenever he had to wait – which, to his eternal disdain, had been far more often than he would have preferred since he had started working for Teslas. It had turned out scientific work was much more tedious than it was exciting, most of the time. Only the elusive sensation of victory achieving results brought with itself kept Henry going.

Teslas, on the other hand, minded the tediousness little. As impatient as he was with people, as frustratingly stoical he was when it came to his work – a trait that Henry didn’t and would never share, or even understand. At his core, he knew his calling wasn’t in science, even if a part of him did enjoy it. Only when he wasn’t dying of boredom, waiting for “science to do itself”, as Teslas always said, of course.

At least the echolocation was a useful skill. Way more useful than he’d allowed himself to admit for a long time, in his pride.

Henry didn’t know if Thanatos had felt left out or had simply wanted to take part in the fun that was “teaching Henry new things”. All he knew was that one morning, maybe a week or so after Teslas had taken him in as his apprentice, the flier had woken him up with the words – “Alright, today it will be me who teaches you something useful.”

The first time hearing he was supposed to learn echolocation Henry had broken into vigorous laughter. Thanatos had patiently waited for his fit to end and brought up a single, simple argument, leaving the exiled prince with little room for objection – “You might not be helpless when you have light – but how often really is that the case, if we’re being completely honest?”

Henry had had no reply as he knew perfectly well the flier was right, yet had still been reluctant to give it an honest try. When was it ever heard of that a human used echolocation?

He had doubted it was even possible to learn the skill at first, yet Thanatos had cared little for his protests. Over the last ten weeks, the flier had persistently dragged him out of bed an hour earlier every day to practice, not listening to complaints, nor arguments, nor taking bribery.

As much as Henry had despised the, in his eyes futile, lessons at first, the flier had turned out a patient and skilled teacher – as long as Henry took what he said seriously.

When he had, maybe a week into it, realized Henry believed not he could ever make progress, he had spent several hours talking, attempting to convince him he was in the wrong. “Only if you believe in it you can succeed. Echolocation is a skill of the mind, it can not be achieved through brainless repetition alone”, he had insisted more times than the exiled prince could count.

At some point, the benefits Thanatos never seized talking about had begun tempting Henry so much he had told himself he might as well begin seriously trying. It wasn’t like he had anything to lose. That one hour of sleep he was not getting back regardless, that much the flier had made clear. So while he was forced to spend his time on it, he might as well do it properly.

It had taken him several weeks of fruitless attempts, but as soon as he had gotten so frustrated with his own failure he had begun focusing all his energy on making at least some sort of progress, he had found – to his own surprise – that he was indeed getting better.

Yet only when his breakthrough had happened and he had been able to SEE the wall in front of him for the first time, he had fully grasped the true power of this skill and understood why Thanatos had insisted on him learning it.

From then on, his motivation had risen exponentially and he had started practicing on his own, on any occasion, quickly getting better and better. In a way, it set him apart from other humans, it was his special skill that only he had, giving him an advantage over everyone else.

Fueled by that he had kept pushing himself, so that by this point, shapes of rooms as well as stationary objects he could envision clearly, and with more detail than he’d ever thought was possible for a human.

As powerful and useful as echolocation had turned out though, it wasn’t omnipotent either. In his pursuit to better himself, Henry had quickly discovered its limits – he could never actively use it in battle or on any sort of moving creature. Thanatos claimed that was impossible as you couldn’t snap your fingers fast and consistent enough.

And now, Henry seized every opportunity to practice, especially when waiting for Teslas, in the strive to become better and benefit from the skill as much as possible.

Yet as thankful as he – internally – was, to have essentially been forced to learn echolocation – from the very first morning the flier had dragged him out of bed for his first lesson, he had never felt safe again. Safe from more completely out-of-the-blue, potentially tedious yet life-changing “hey, let’s learn a new thing”-ideas.

The only thing the exiled prince could never make up his mind about was whether he dreaded or anticipated them.

When Henry had already started assuming Teslas had forgotten about him and the reason he was waiting here altogether, he finally heard a call from the workshop.

In a long time, the exiled prince hadn’t been up on his feet so fast. He started running when he made out the ray of light streaming out from underneath the curtain that concealed the workshop and shoved it aside. “Is it done? FINALLY!”, he called, letting his gaze wander, in search of the black nibbler.

Henry, at last, spun around at a cheeping noise from behind Teslas’ desk, followed by a few squeaks, and sighed frustratedly. “Do you really expect me to focus on nibbler tongue when we essentially just had a breakthrough? We... DID have a breakthrough, right?”

Teslas’ head appeared from behind the table now and an accusing squeak, accompanied by a glare, was all the response Henry got. The exiled prince glared back and sighed again, before repeating his question in nibbler, as well as he could.

It had been around two weeks after Thanatos had decided Henry should learn echolocation when his fear had confirmed itself. This time in collaboration with Teslas, the flier had announced it was time to learn the next “life-changingly important” random thing.

Both of them had insisted he should learn at least the basics of nibbler tongue, to make communication between teacher and student easier, and to show respect to his hosts. Henry had fiercely protested at first, not seeing any point in it. Echolocation was a useful and practical skill, learning a different language would waste his time not providing any benefits, he had argued.

Only when Teslas had brought up if he learned their language, Henry would be able to understand everyone around him better, he had listened up for the first time. The implied promise of being able to listen in on conversations had, at last, moved him to give in, even if only begrudgingly. So, in addition to the echolocation lessons, from then on he had to deal with Teslas using their periods of joint work to teach him his language as well.

Since then, enough time and effort had gone into his lessons, so that Henry was at the point where he had wanted to be – he understood what was spoken and was able to communicate back. Teslas claimed his pronunciation was atrocious but otherwise had complimented him on having picked it up decently quickly.

Now that Henry had come this far, the inventor insisted all their conversations should be held in nibbler, for further practice. It was frustrating and completely pointless in Henry’s opinion, but Teslas wouldn’t have it any other way, so he had no choice but to go along with it for the most part. There still had to be exceptions, the exiled prince thought now, like at the time of a historic breakthrough.

Teslas’ gaze softened and took on a triumphing glow as he climbed over the table. His next cheep confirmed exactly what Henry had hoped for, and the exiled prince was unable to suppress a wave of excitement. If this worked, all of the trouble they had gone through, over the last months, would have been worth it. Henry then and there told himself he’d speak in nibbler for as long as Teslas wanted if only this would work. If only.

It would solve so many of his problems at once – and it would be a childhood dream come true. His heartbeat tripled at the mere thought.

More than twelve weeks had passed since Henry and Thanatos had decided to stay at the nibbler colony. It had been twelve weeks filled with frustration, and tedious work – but also much triumph and success, as well as so many new things and skills Henry struggled to keep track of all of them.

Echolocation and nibbler tongue were the two most essential, but by far not the only things. Teslas had kept his end of their deal – he had taught Henry far more than the exiled prince had ever hoped for.

And he hadn’t just learned fast when it came to nibbler tongue, he had caught onto most things astonishingly quickly, much to Teslas’ joy. The nibbler had soon acknowledged Henry as a skillful apprentice, with many ideas of his own. They had spent nearly all their time in the workshop together, to the point where Thanatos, Lovelace, and Curie all had started joking how Teslas’ hermit lifestyle was a bad influence on Henry.

The exiled prince himself minded little, though. Quite on the contrary, he had found satisfaction in having proven himself a worthy student and for the first time since his exile, he had even started to feel somewhat confident in his own survival abilities.

Further, he had recognized significant improvements in his own physical appearance, over the course of the months. The bags under his eyes had disappeared, his injuries completely healed, though most had left scars, and he appeared less emaciated. He was still noticeably thinner than before exile, but the work for Teslas had served as a workout, too. His strength and durability had returned to normal, in some cases even increased. The varied and plentiful diet had done its part in restoring his health too, and overall, he felt better than he had in a long time.

Henry had, once he had gotten used to the manual labor, found great enjoyment in working with Teslas, not least because their time wasn’t limited to studying and physical work.

They had taken to splitting the day half, one dedicated to studies and lessons, the other to experiments and crafts. The notebook of Henry’s mother had been their main source of inspiration and the two of them had spent hours discussing various ideas for things to build from it – and ten times that time actually building them.

And then there was the other thing. The borderline crazy idea Henry hadn’t been able to get out of his head, ever since the gnawers around Cleaver had wanted to push him off that cliff for allegedly killing their king. He still vividly saw his sword hitting the brazier – and catching on fire.

It had required effort, and a great deal of it, too. In the three months that had passed, they had been experimenting with various ways and aborting most of them immediately. Eventually, they had asked Lovelace to talk to other nibblers, preferably knowledgeable chemists – a field of science that neither Teslas nor Henry were experts in.

Five entire pages in the notebook that used to belong to his mother, and that the exiled prince had decided to continue in her honor, had been entirely covered in chemical formulas and design ideas. A soap-shaped solid, several liquids, and, at last, the gel-like substance the chemist, a nibbler of the name Boyle whom Lovelace had sent to assist them, had suggested.

With his help and around six weeks of failed experiments later, they had now reached this very day – the day Teslas had announced they would succeed.

“It’s done, Henry. You can try it now.” Teslas announced, to Henry’s surprise not in nibbler. “You sure?” He grinned and thought he’d certainly not complain about the language.

“Yes. It WILL work. This time it will.” Teslas returned his grin, he sounded tired yet his eyes shone with excitement, and Henry allowed himself to be optimistic too.

The black nibbler moved over to a setup for chemical experiments they had built specifically for this project, and with the help of some forceps, he carefully removed a glass cylinder from where it was suspended, over a quietly crackling flame. He then set it down and fetched a fitting lid, before pushing it over the table towards Henry. His eyes were glowing with pride and triumph.

Carefully, the exiled prince picked up the jar and stared at the translucent, gel-like substance in it. His heartbeat elevated in excitement and he couldn’t prevent another “Are you really sure?” from escaping his mouth.

“Stop whining, Henry, and let’s go outside to test it.” Teslas just leaped over the table, making off in the direction of the exit. “I don’t want you burning down my entire workshop.”

Henry’s heart was beating out of his chest the entire time it took them to reach the curtain of vines and step outside. He was clutching the cylinder tightly, barely keeping his hand from shaking.

As Teslas and Henry stepped on the beach they were greeted with the sight of lush green, the vibrant colors of the jungle contrasted so much with the monotony of Teslas’ workshop Henry had to squint for a moment. Maybe they all were right, maybe he should begin going out more.

Then his eyes met the familiar figures of Thanatos and Curie, sitting by the lake. The two had spent almost as much time together as the exiled prince and the inventor in recent times, at least as far as Henry was aware. His unbelieving eyes fixated on Curie – the baby mouse had grown to double her size, in the three months since they had saved her, and wasn’t quite a baby anymore. Still, Thanatos continuously treated her with utmost gentleness – for some reason Henry, to this day, failed to grasp.

“Death, DEATH! YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS!”, he screamed as he spotted the flier and started running, gripping the jar with the gel even harder.

Thanatos raised his head at the familiar voice. “Oh, look who has decided to come out of the hole he had locked himself up in for the last three months. Have you not forgotten how the outside world looks like yet, Henry?”

The exiled prince disregarded the flier’s sarcasm, nothing could dim his excitement now. “Listen, it was WORTH IT. You’ll see!”

“Can I see too?” Curie had leaped from her designated spot on Thanatos’ head and ran over to him, placing her front paws on his leg.

“Of course!”, Henry called, jumping from the height of the last rock onto the beach. “EVERYONE needs to see!”

Thanatos sighed, though his gaze was sympathetic, even mildly curious as Henry thought. “Well, show your incredible new thing already. If it is indeed as great as you are excited, all our problems should be solved.”

“It WILL solve a lot, you know?”, Henry began defending their creation. “Don’t be so negative. And besides, it has to be amazing, after we spent, like, our entire stay here, making it!”

“Mostly the last six weeks, but he is right. This is the most incredible thing ever. If we continue to improve it and possibly trade the formula to the humans, once we perfected it, it could revolutionize their entire system of warfare.” Teslas had followed him onto the beach and watched the scene with satisfaction and pride.

“He’s right. Just watch.” Henry carefully sat the cylinder down and drew his sword. Curie had gone back to sitting on Thanatos’ head, though she would soon grow too large to do that, and the flier watched as well, visibly trying to conceal his evident curiosity.

Henry then kneeled next to the cylinder, sword in hand, and carefully lifted the lid with the other, before taking a cloth from Teslas. He soaked it in the gel and started dispensing the substance on the drawn blade, watching carefully to not cover the sharp edges of the sword. The gel instantly became semi-solid as it came in contact with the metal and formed a thin, transparent layer around the dull sides.

When Henry thought he had applied enough he stood again and reached for his fire stones. He exchanged a glance with Teslas and raised his hand theatrically.

“May we present –”, the inventor called as Henry grated the stones together over the prepped blade. “– the ignifer!”

The moment the first spark touched the blade, it lit on fire. The flame ignited in a modest explosion and Henry nearly dropped the sword in shock, even though he had expected the result. He then held the blade out, watched the flames dance around it, and a wide grin spread on his face.

When he, at last, managed to tear his gaze off the burning sword to look at Thanatos and Curie, the flier was sitting up and staring at the burning sword with unconcealed awe. Both his and Curie’s eyes were large and circular. The little mouse jumped from Thanatos’ head to carefully draw closer, yet kept a safe distance from the fire at all times.

Henry’s grin grew wider at the reaction of the others. “Told you it was amazing!”, he shot in their direction and held the blade away from his body, careful not to let the flames get too close to his face or hand.

To his own disdain, he noticed it would definitely be something he would have to get used to – holding a sword that was on fire – and would require some practice. In using it for battle as well as finding the perfect amount and the best spots to apply the ignifer on the blade. With irritation he found he had been too generous with it this time, the fire was too strong and he wouldn’t be able to hold the sword facing downward without burning his hand.

A wave of frustration swelled in Henry but he suppressed it, shrugging it off and thinking he shouldn’t allow these kinds of minor details to ruin his mood. The correct dosage was something he’d figure out on the go. For now, the important part was that it worked at all. He couldn’t let that minuscule of a setback dim his pride.

Henry gripped the handle tighter, took a step back, and raised the sword to strike the air a few times. With joy, he found the flame stopped being a nuisance as soon as he started moving the blade. It actually worked way better than he had anticipated. Encouraged by that, he became more confident, soon swinging the sword faster and with more power.

“Hey, hey, hey – Henry, be careful!”, Teslas’ voice interrupted him, “This is the jungle, not a stone cave where nothing around you can light on fire!” Henry stopped in his tracks to glare at the nibbler, before sighing and lowering the sword, at last. “I know, I know. But did you see how well it works? It’s still burning too!”, Henry called, extending the arm with the blade in the direction of the inventor.

“Yes, yes. Let’s see for how long it will last then.” Teslas rubbed his front paws together in anticipation. So far, the flame had not even shrunken.

“You... you spent all your time in that cave with finding a way to make your sword... burn?” Thanatos at last spoke, he sounded like he desperately tried not to give away how impressed he truly was.

“Well, not ALL of it, but mostly, yes”, Teslas answered.

“That is the most amazing trick I’ve ever seen!” In contrast to that of the flier, Curie’s awe was evident and unconcealed, she had crossed over to sit with her father now, staring at Henry and his sword, wide-eyed.

“I know, right!” The exiled prince didn’t bother hiding his own excitement either. “Ever since this happened for the first time and proved it was actually, physically possible – you know, when those rats pushed me off the cliff after we fought in the arena, I couldn’t get it out of my head. I needed to know if there was a way to actively utilize and control it – and here we are now!”

“I see”, Thanatos tilted his head. “And how do you extinguish it again?”

Henry froze. He slowly turned his head to Teslas who seemed to be equally startled. The flier took note of their reaction and sighed. “Let me guess. You guys have no idea.”

Student and teacher exchanged a prolonged glance. “Well, considering how the most difficult part in creating the ignifer was making it LAST, as in, specifically making it NOT go out too quickly, you might understand how we... eh, overlooked, that part”, Teslas awkwardly scraped the ground.

“Yes, making it burn was easy. The struggles lied in having it not damage the blade long-term and making it last for more than a few seconds. I mean, it should go out on its own... relatively soon”, Henry added, fiddling around in the air with the sword.

“Relatively... soon, I see”, Thanatos’ somewhat spiteful glee was apparent and the exiled prince shot the flier an angry glare – how dare he ruin the mood with his nitpicking!

Teslas only sighed. “Well, seems like we aren’t finished after all. Though the rest of today you can take off, in celebration of our victory. Given you deliver me some data on how long it burns, of course.”

Henry’s head jolted up in surprised excitement. It was a rarity Teslas ever granted him any sort of break. “Promise!”

“But if I find a single case of burn damage ANYWHERE around the colony, you will regret ever having asked me to help you make this thing!”, the inventor grumbled, “And do not waste too much of it, you hear? That jar is all you’ll get in a while, and you’ve used, like, a third of it now.”

Henry groaned, though shot the jar a concerned look. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be careful.” He walked over to the lake and dropped the sword on the sand next to the water, to see how long it would burn without having to hold it. From the corner of his eye, he watched Teslas, with Curie on his shoulder, making his way back inside. “This is too much open space for me”, he muttered, disappearing in between the vines.

The blade ended up burning around fifteen minutes, then the ignifer was used up and the flame died down with a hiss. Henry took in a distinct though not unpleasant chemical smell from the now smoking sword.

He grinned before jumping to his feet from where he had sat to watch, highly pleased with the time. It was almost triple the length their last attempt had burned.

“So, a flaming sword, huh?” Thanatos had not moved from his spot on the beach and had silently watched the blade burn together with the exiled prince.

“I still can’t believe it either!” Henry turned to him, grinning widely, barely keeping himself from jumping where he stood in joy. “Think about it, this is not only going to intimidate my enemies and help me see in battle when there is no other light source, but also one of my oldest and most passionate childhood wishes come true!”

The flier raised his head. “Oh really? How so? I thought you got the idea from when it happened at that cliff?”

Henry hesitated, “Well, kind of. That just proved it was indeed technically possible and not a mere fairytale thing, but I’ve dreamed of owning a flaming sword for a long time.”

“Is that so?”, Thanatos hummed, “Where did you get it from then?”

Henry smiled, staring off into the dense network of vines behind the lake. He was taken back to some of the earliest memories he had – he might have been three or four – playing in the now old nursery. For as long as he could remember he had always taken the stone animals and the murals on the walls of the room as an inspiration for scary stories to tell his peers. They were plentiful, often sinister, and left much room for interpretation. And Henry had used that shamelessly to frighten the other kids.

His favorite spot to sit had been the back of the giant stone turtle everyone had always been so afraid of – and his favorite mural to tell stories about had been the one on the wall next to it.

“It was the mural of a man, a man in a hood and a black cloak, around his head shone a golden ring – holding a burning sword.”

Thanatos tilted his head, how Henry thought struggling to picture it. The exiled prince pondered on how to better describe it when he had an idea. From his back pocket, he fetched his mother’s notebook, which he had begun carrying around frequently to note down more possible ignifer ideas on the fly, opened the next free page, and quickly sketched the shape of the mural from his memory. It had been a while since he’d last seen it, but as a child, this singular image had fascinated him so much that even after all this time he remembered it clearly enough to draw.

Once he was done, he held the page in Thanatos’ direction, who curiously raised his head to have a better view.

“That does look like it would impress a child”, he admitted.

“This is but a sloppy sketch. You should see the real deal. It was amazing. And you know what the title of the mural was?” Henry sat the notebook back down on his lap and wrote three words on the page, close to the hooded man’s head –

“The Death Rider?”, Thanatos exclaimed, “Really? I bet you told a lot of scary stories about that guy as a kid.”

Henry laughed. “Oh, you bet. I always took the torch from the wall, even though we weren’t supposed to touch it, sat atop the giant stone turtle, and pretended to be him. The torch was my sword, the height of the turtle had me seem more menacing.” He grinned, “Those were the days...”

Thanatos joined in his laugh. “I can imagine your peers being frightened by that.”

Henry nodded, and spontaneously jumped up, grabbed his no longer burning sword, and climbed one of the taller rocks near the beach. He soon kneeled atop it and pointed the sword forward. Then he spread his arms and called, with a deeper and more menacing voice – “BEWARE, for I am the DEATH RIDER! I come from the depths of the earth, flying on the wings of Death Himself! When I rise, all of you better hide, for I come to sough fear and kill all the nasty children in their sleep!”

While speaking he waved the blade around, as if trying to intimidate an imaginary audience of kids.

Thanatos only broke into vigorous laughter at his performance. “Oh yes, that’s the way, what a nice kid you must have been!”

Henry grinned and leaped back down. “It was my favorite thing to play-pretend. I wanted to be this guy so badly, but most of all, I wanted a sword like his. And now...” – “... now you have one.”

The next few hours Henry spent yet again in Teslas’ workshop, despite having been given the time off officially, and they tried to make progress towards an extinguisher-formula. At the end of the day, they had at least a rough idea, even if nothing concrete yet.

Henry went to bed immediately after Teslas said it was enough for the day, for he was tired in a most satisfied way, and there was nothing much else to do anyway.

However, as the exiled prince woke the next day, a surprise awaited him. For the first time in what felt like forever, Thanatos did not fetch him for their echolocation lesson, instead, he ran into Lovelace herself, as he stepped out of his chamber. “Henry, good morning to you.” She greeted with a smile, “Come join us for breakfast, won’t you? If you’re looking for Thanatos, he is already there.”

Despite wondering if she had ulterior motive to ask, he had soon joined her and a few others, among which also Thanatos, in the cave that served as dining room. And maybe ten minutes into the meal Henry found out his suspicion had been justified. Having breakfast hadn’t been the primary reason Lovelace had summoned him, of course.

“Accompany a trading party? The hell am I supposed to do there?”, he exclaimed after the colony leader had explained what she wanted of him, not bothering to hide his agitation. Henry had looked forward to spending a nice, quiet, normal day with Teslas, working on their extinguisher and maybe a few other things, and now this – “I mean, I’ll just be in the way, right? I can’t help you carry the supplies, instead, Thanatos will have to carry me.”

Lovelace sighed. “I know, but – you are the best warrior currently living in this colony, and the party might need you for that purpose.” She explained the crawlers, whom the nibblers supplied with goods, had their habitat east of the jungle, a little beyond the dimensions of most maps. It was normally a peaceful colony, yet currently, they were threatened by a flock of overly-ambitious cutters, who had their territory further east, and now apparently sought to expand it. The crawlers were constantly at risk of an attack.

“Despite the imminent danger we cannot stop supplying them”, Lovelace sounded grave, “they rely on us. The ants have cut them off from the last river that carried fish in what used to be their land, all the remaining water is toxic for any warm-blooded lifeform, as well as the fish. The crawlers themselves can drink it, but they cannot hunt in it, so they will starve if we don’t trade them supplies.”

Henry swallowed a mouthful of his own fish, before taking another bite, not in any hurry to reply. He would have to come up with a good excuse to get himself out of this one. And fast.

“Besides”, Thanatos on his other side raised his voice, “it would do you good to get your hide out of that cave and back into the real world, at some point. All you’ve been doing these last months is sit around inside. A prolonged trip out of the jungle should be exactly what you need.”

Henry frowned and turned to the flier – “Hey, who the hell are you to talk like that – my MOTHER?!”

Thanatos grumbled, but the exiled prince ignored him and turned to Lovelace, going over what she had explained in his head. “So, you want me there to protect the trading party – from cutters?” Henry had never fought the ants of the Underland before. He had only ever seen a few from the distance, and as tedious as the trip had seemed earlier, a wave of adventurous spirit and curiosity for a new species flooded him suddenly.

“Yes. You will not be alone either, Thanatos will, of course, accompany you, and I am sending two of my most trusted and skilled fighters with you as well.” Her gaze fixated on two female nibblers who had just entered the room, one dark grey, the other cream-colored, similar to Lovelace herself.

“They are Cylindra, one of my officials”, she pointed at the grey mouse, “and that is Cevian”, the second nibbler smiled and Lovelace rose to greet her. “She is Curie’s sister, born five years prior. I believe I did introduce you at some point, though that was a long time ago.”

In surprise, Henry’s gaze darted up at Cevian. She gave him an encouraging, yet also somewhat challenging, smile. “It’s nice to finally properly meet you, Henry, so much time you have spent with father, and I with errands for mother, that we did not get the chance to talk yet, in all the time you’ve been here.”

“We surely will during this trip”, he answered, only in retrospect realizing he had just agreed to undertake it. Henry found himself more or less reluctantly accepting his fate and he put on the same kind of challenging expression in Cevian’s direction. She held his gaze and nodded.

“Nice to meet you too”, he greeted Cylindra as well, who gave him a respectful smile. “It is my pleasure.”

“When will we leave?” Henry turned back to Lovelace, who had watched the scene, not unpleased as he thought.

“Immediately, if you can.”

To Henry, the actual trip to the crawler colony almost seemed shorter than preparing all the supplies and loading them onto a construction Thanatos would carry, before they left. In the end, he was sweating and found it hard to catch his breath, even though his physical condition had improved significantly over the last months.

As Henry stared at the loaded pack, consisting of heavy crates full of fruit and dried fish, and thought a flier with normal stamina would have struggled with it, while Thanatos claimed he had flown the trek effortlessly with similar cargo multiple times. Then again, if he was honest, it surprised Henry little. He had already experienced how exceptional Thanatos’ endurance was, among his own, and possibly even among all species.

He indeed appeared to show no signs of distress when they finally entered a huge cave that had three tunnels leading out of it, and as Henry only saw on second glance, a giant stone structure on the far side. When he lifted the torch the nibblers had given him higher, he recognized what appeared to be a massive fortress with no visible entrance.

As soon as Thanatos landed, two crawlers scurried into view, excitedly tapping their feet and vibrating their antennas at the sight of the supplies. Henry thought they had appeared out of a hole in the ground, directly in front of the structure.

He mounted down, inevitably asking himself who had built the impressively solid-seeming fortress, and started hauling the supply crates off the construct Thanatos had carried them in. He would ask one of the mice, who had run the distance on foot and weren’t here yet, for the origins of the fort when they would arrive.

Maybe five minutes later, Cevian and Cylindra joined them, at last. Both began helping Henry with the crates though before he could ask any questions engaged in a vivid conversation with the crawlers.

Another five minutes might have passed, the work was mundane and exhausting and the exiled prince found himself thoroughly disappointed in the lack of battle or anything else even remotely exciting. Had he really come all this way just to bring food to some crawlers?

Then, when they were about halfway done unloading the goods, Thanatos’ ears twitched and his head shot up. In the same moment, something touched him, and when he twirled around a crawler extended an antenna to his leg, presumably to attract his attention.

Before Thanatos could open his mouth to say it, the crawler next to the exiled prince beat him to it – “Cutters are coming, cutters.”

Henry’s head jerked away from the crawler and around, finally, something was happening. But just as he had readied himself to draw his sword, Cevian grabbed his arm and began dragging him towards the fortress. “The crawlers say it’s too many this time, we can’t fight them. We need to get to the citadel.” Her voice showed signs of distress, but Henry angrily broke free – “For the crawlers maybe, but isn’t that exactly why we are –”

He froze in his tracks at once as his gaze met the side of the cave across the structure.

Henry unbelievingly stared at the fiery red mass streaming out of the two largest tunnels leading into the cave. Initially, he was unable to distinguish individual bodies, but then he spotted the antennas and the razor-sharp jaws that gave this species its name – the cutters.


	14. Besieged

Cevian didn’t leave Henry any time to think or question anything. She grabbed him again and this time, lifted him off his feet. Henry screamed and struggled, in an attempt to free himself, but her grip was strong and he was limited in his movement, in his current position.

The torch he had dropped when she had lifted him up burned for a few more seconds before the fuel ran out and it sizzled as it left them in complete darkness. Yet the nibbler apparently knew exactly where she was going as she carried the heavily protesting prince away with her.

A few seconds passed, then she released Henry into some sort of hole. He cried again as he fell, only to land roughly on his backside. The fall had been brief, but the shaft he found himself in was narrow, and Henry shrieked as he felt Cevian squeezing in after him.

The exiled prince opened his mouth to ask where they were and what the hell she thought she was doing as he registered several crawlers appearing from deeper in the tunnel and scurrying past him and Cevian. Then, faster than he could think, they filled the hole with loose stones and earth, trapping them all inside.

“Hey!” Henry found himself surrounded by pitch-blackness. “HEY! What the hell are you doing, let me out!”, he cried, blindly flailing around, almost hitting his head on the wall.

They were in the structure, the fortress. They had to be. Cevian had most likely dropped him into the same hole he had seen the crawlers originally appear out of. It was the only reasonable option.

Then, a different kind of fear gripped his heart and Henry froze mid-movement. He and Cevian were here, but – “Hey, where are Cylindra and Thanatos?!”

“Cylindra should be down here already, she carried a crate earlier”, Cevian’s voice sounded next to him and Henry nearly hit her in the face with his hand as he spun around. “And about your flier –”, she hesitated, “I am sorry, he wouldn’t have fit through the entrance. Do not worry though, cutters are not skilled jumpers, and he can fly.”

The exiled prince groaned as he attempted to orientate himself. “Why the hell did you bring me down here?”, he hissed at her, “We could have fought them! We even specifically came here to fight – not hide like cowards!” He eyed the crawlers that were scurrying away now, after sealing them in. “Where even are we?”

Yet the nibbler proceeded to ignore him and squeezed past to call for her friend. “Cylindra, where are you?” No response. “Cylindra! Her smell is all around us, but where is she?”

“Earlier here, your friend was, earlier”, a quiet voice sounded from next to him and Henry winced.

“What do you mean, “earlier”?”, Cevian cried, not even attempting to conceal her fear. “Not here anymore, she is, not anymore.” The crawler answered, and Henry realized Cevian must have followed an older scent, from when Cylindra had carried the crate down here, prior to the attack.

“Hey, Thanatos is out there too, I’m sure he carried her to safety”, Henry remarked, by far not as sure as he had sounded. He knew Cevian was right, the flier would most likely be fine, but what if the cutters had reached Cylindra before Thanatos?

Angrily, he shook the thought. For now, he had his own problems to worry about. He needed to assess where he was and how to get out again. Henry attempted to move forward in a direction where he sensed an opening but hit his head on the low ceiling. He cried in pain and held his throbbing head. Great – that would certainly make for a bump of considerable size. Only then he recalled the crawlers always had those ridiculously low ceilings.

After carefully bending down he began moving again, traversing a narrow but short tunnel. As the wall he was tracing with his hand for support disappeared, Henry dared stand again. This time, the ceiling was higher, even though, as he stretched his arm, he could feel it only inches above his head. Henry took a deep breath before he, at last, snapped his fingers.

Click. Click. Apparently, they were in some sort of cave. He envisioned the low ceiling and a wall to his right. Click. There was Cevian, there two or maybe three crawlers. They were hard to hold apart.

He couldn’t make out any sort of obstacle in front of him, so Henry slowly began walking forward, hand tracing the ceiling this time. He proceeded to check his surroundings with echolocation and soon found an exit tunnel leading to an even bigger cave. Finally, the ceiling was so high Henry had to raise his hand a considerable amount to reach it and he dared stretching his aching back.

Click. There were many crawlers here, the exiled prince wouldn’t have been able to tell their number. Click. The cave was ginormous, he had to focus to envision the opposing wall. In front of it he now made out an object, it appeared to be some sort of bowl. Henry frowned, asking himself what that was, then he snapped his fingers again and recognized the shape.

A wave of joy inundated him and he made his way there, repeatedly using echolocation to not accidentally run into something.

Click. There it was, Henry took another step forward and realized he’d miscalculated by a few inches. He cried out when he stubbed his foot on the bowl-shaped object that had been a little closer than anticipated. Henry cursed and kneeled down, inspecting it closer. “Hey”, he called out at random, “this is a brazier, right?”

“Lit on fire, it can be, lit.” The voice of a crawler responded from his right. “Oh yes!”, the exiled prince exclaimed, “Echolocation is nice and all, but a good old fire is exactly what we need.” Once again, grateful beyond belief his father had etched it into his mind to always carry fire stones, he fetched them, and the brazier lit on fire.

After his eyes had adjusted to the light, Henry saw the cave was about as big as his echolocation had indicated, but the number of crawlers in it was larger than he’d thought. Why did it have to be crawlers? He shifted, they were weak and stupid, they couldn’t even talk normally! And now he was trapped with who knew how many of them. What thought.

Henry carefully rose to his feet again, keeping a careful eye on as many of the crawlers as he could. “Hey Cevian, I made light!”, he called for the nibbler, who soon poked her head into the larger cave. “Ah – well done. Light is always welcomed.” She approached the fire and sat down next to the brazier, watching the flames.

Henry plopped down next to her, thinking he needed the answers she had denied him earlier, at last. “Hey, so, we’re in the colony, right?”

Cevian nodded, and Henry sighed. It wasn’t like he had expected a different response. “So...”, he spoke again, “what exactly is happening? When do we get out? I don’t like it here...”

Cevian threw him a glance. “Henry, you don’t understand... We are not going to get out. We are under siege.”

The word hit him like a bucket of cold water. “Siege?! What? How did that happen?”, he called, panic slowly but surely rising in his chest, making its way up to grip his heart.

Cevian sighed. “The cutters have surrounded us. If we open up a single exit, they will immediately take the citadel and we are all lost.”

Henry’s head was spinning, he suddenly felt like he was going to be sick. Leaning on the wall, he tried to calm his screaming thoughts and fight the incoming panic attack. They were trapped. Here – in this... crawler nest, and they couldn’t go out. For how long? How long would the cutters keep their siege up?

Wait, there was something wrong here. This siege shouldn’t even be happening. Henry recalled the little he knew about the crawlers, most importantly how they normally weren’t sedentary. Why didn’t they just leave and let the cutters have this place?

When he asked Cevian, she averted her eyes. “Under normal circumstances, they would leave, but...” – “No place to leave to, there is, no place”, a different voice responded and Henry jerked around to where it came from. “Stingers and pinchers have taken territory in north, cutters have taken all other, all that surrounds us, they have. Nowhere left to go, there is, nowhere.” Henry didn’t know why but he was certain the crawler now standing before him was the same who had talked earlier.

“So, they surrounded the crawlers? As in, this is the last remaining bit of land they still have?”

Cevian looked at him, a little reproachful. “Henry, he is right in front of you. Why are you talking to ME, like he doesn’t exist?”

The exiled prince rolled his eyes and eyed the crawler. Was he actually going to talk to one of them? He gave a little sigh and decided it was probably easier to do so. Besides, while he had previously been a prince who had not wanted to degrade himself by talking to a lowly lifeform like the crawlers, what argument had he in his current state?

Henry took a deep breath and, using a considerable amount of willpower, finally addressed the crawler – “So, they have you surrounded?”

He twitched one of his antennas in approval. “The citadel the last standing is, the citadel. The last of us are all here, last of us.”

“The citadel...” Henry glanced around. “Is that what you call this place? It’s... decent enough. Who built it?”

“We built it, we did.” Henry actually heard pride in the crawler’s voice.

“You? Really?” He squinted his eyes, attempting to imagine the crawlers were capable of building a stronghold like this. From what he had seen earlier it was a downright fortress – heavily reinforced and most likely nigh impenetrable.

“Henry, do not judge the crawlers too quickly. They may not be great fighters, but they are skilled builders and have the stamina of stones. They have so far defeated the cutters every single time by holing up in here for weeks until their opponents gave up and moved on. Never before has the citadel been taken, it is rumored to be, even among its species, one of the most tenacious and powerful colonies the crawlers call their own.”

Henry rolled his eyes, though in a way so that Cevian couldn’t see.

“These crawlers may be the last of their colony”, she continued, “but they are still many. And they are still here. I highly doubt the citadel will fall today – or ever.”

Despite his personal contempt, Henry found himself glancing around. And as much as he hated to admit it, Cevian had a point. This stronghold – the citadel – certainly looked like it would withstand centuries, even from the inside. Though the more Henry thought her words over, the clearer it became there was a non-negligible issue – “Hey, THEY may be able to stay in here for weeks, but what about us? What are we supposed to eat and drink?”

The nibbler spun around to him and, for the first time with concern in her eyes. “You... do have a point. This... oh, this is not good...”

“You can have the food, you can!” The crawler announced and scurried over to a crate that had been set down next to the wall. It was the single supply crate Cylindra had managed to carry down before the attack.

“That is most generous of you, but it won’t last us more than a few days”, Cevian sighed and rose to inspect the crate. “And then there remains the problem of water.”

“Water we have also, but it is not safe to drink for you, it is not.” The crawler hung his antennas apologetically.

“Wait –”, Henry listened up, “if there is water, I can easily purify it by boiling. All I need is some sort of pot or bowl.” He longingly thought of the equipment he had received from the nibblers or crafted with Teslas, that he had left at the colony. The same went for all his weapons, including the sling and the new dagger Teslas had made from King Gorger’s tooth, except his sword.

He had clearly underestimated this mission, Henry gritted his teeth at his own recklessness. Then again, none of the weapons would be of any use to him now anyway.

“Oh, I’m sure they have a pot or something of the sort around here somewhere”, Cevian threw him an encouraging smile. “Good thinking!”

A few hours later their situation hadn’t changed much. The citadel was still closed off for the siege and Henry and Cevian had eaten dinner from what little supplies they had found in the crate. They would ration the food, but the exiled prince knew very well they would run out soon.

Luckily, his plan to purify the water had worked. At his question as to where the water was, the crawler from before had led him down through a couple halls until they had reached a steadily flowing, narrow river.

It ran directly beneath the citadel and, though toxic for warmbloods in its initial state, boiling had killed off all dangerous organisms in it. It still tasted bland, compared to the spring water at the nibbler colony, but it was better than nothing.

“We need a plan to get out of here.” Henry swallowed the last bite of his meal, which had been much sparser than what he was used to now, but he didn’t complain. He vividly remembered a time he had been much worse off.

Cevian looked up at him and hesitated, before finally nodding. “Yes, but – do you HAVE any idea? Because I would not know where even to start.”

Henry sighed. “I know. But we need to come up with something. There has to be a way. I refuse to believe I survived the damned fall AND the rat arena to die HERE!”

The nibbler eyed him curiously. “You... never specified what exactly happened to you. Why have you never returned to Regalia?”

The exiled prince sighed. A part of him had waited for the question while another had prayed it would never come up. “Listen, I know this sounds suspicious, but – I’d rather not talk about it.”

Cevian averted her gaze but nodded. “I am curious, but I will not force you to disclose any secrets you wish to keep to yourself.”

“Thank you.”

They sat in silence for a while, then Henry suggested they might as well go to sleep. It wasn’t like there was anything else to do. To his surprise, as soon as he announced that, the crawlers led them to a room they seemed to have prepared for them, with furs to sleep on and a smaller version of the brazier Henry had lit earlier.

“I didn’t think they had any of this stuff!”, the exiled prince exclaimed as he plopped down on one of the fur sheets.

“Oh, they have a lot. Goods they trade with the humans or with us. All sorts of things – furs, leather, fuel – they are, next to the humans, our most important suppliers.”

The exiled prince nodded, and suddenly recalled Thanatos having mentioned something along the lines as well in the past. “Well, lucky us then.” Despite the truth of Cevian’s words, Henry’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

Henry couldn’t sleep. Several hours he had twisted and turned in the sheets, failing to vanish into the black oblivion of sleep. He was tired beyond belief, but his thoughts were much too restless.

He kept seeing the red mass of cutters before his inner eye, how they had swept over, ready to devour anything in their path. Like a living stream of blood, seeking to engulf him and tear him to shreds, too minuscule to ever put back together. This was not how he wanted to die.

And then there was the imminent question of what had happened to Cylindra – and Thanatos. For the first time since his exile, Henry found himself separated from the flier, and although he had Cevian, he would have felt a lot better knowing Thanatos by his side as well. Somehow, there was something about the flier that made Henry feel safe. Safer than he should or had any logical reason to. Would that feeling be lost forever, should the flier die to the cutters?

Henry kept telling himself Thanatos would be fine. He had survived in the Dead Land for years on his own, there was probably little that could phase him at this point. Yet still – the exiled prince found himself anxious for the flier’s fate.

“Hey – if you don’t stop moving soon we might just both abandon the idea of sleep tonight.” Cevian’s sudden voice from the bunk next to him had Henry wince. She was staring at him with wide-open eyes and Henry thought his restless turning must have kept her awake. “Sorry”, he mumbled, “I... can’t calm my thoughts.”

“Let me guess – you are worried about your flier.”

The exiled prince pressed his lips together. He hated how she had seen right through him, and he would most certainly not admit to it. “Hey, first of all, he’s not MY flier. We aren’t bonds, you know?”

“Oh? For that, you two seem really close.”

Henry failed to determine whether the humor in Cevian’s voice was mocking or comradely. “We don’t.” He thought it not necessary to hide his annoyance. “He’s a useful ally, that’s all.”

Cevian was silent for a while. “You may tell yourself that”, she spoke as Henry had almost given up on ever getting an answer, “For what it’s worth, he’s doing it too. “But the two of you aren’t fooling anyone besides yourselves.” Now she was definitely mocking. “You know, countless bets are running on how long it’ll take for you to bond. From what I hear, father is the one behind most of them.”

Henry instantly sat upright on his sheet. “What?! Are you kidding me? That’s NOT happening!”, he scoffed. “Prepare to lose whatever you invested.” Quieter, he mumbled – “What’s a bond worth anyway, these days...”

Cevian looked like she wanted to ask what he meant but remained silent. “Still, you worry for him.”

“Him and Cylindra”, Henry finally admitted. “But it’s not like I have no reason to. They are out there somewhere, possibly in constant danger. We are at least in here. Who knows what’s happened to them by now?”

Cevian nodded. “You are right. Their well-being worries me too. But, as hard as it is to accept this, there is nothing we can do for them. We have to focus on our own survival as it lies in our hands.”

“And we still need a plan”, Henry nodded. Cevian was right, it was indeed better to focus on their own problem rather than worry about Thanatos and Cylindra. We can’t help them, but how can we even help ourselves? A wave of desperate helplessness crushed Henry’s resolve at the thought and he sat up again, suddenly unable to stay idle for a second longer. “Hey, I’m thirsty. I’ll go fetch a little water.”

The exiled prince stood up, not waiting for Cevian’s response. He snapped his fingers a few times, as they had put out the brazier for the night, and envisioned the narrow tunnel that led to the main cave. From there he would find his way back to the underground river where he’d stored the supply of purified water. He further decided he could at least set up another fire to boil the next batch. And maybe he’d have an epiphany on the way. He certainly knew he wouldn’t find a solution to their problem in his sleep.

Cevian ended up silently following Henry to the river and watched him refill the little pot the crawlers had given him. While he worked, he stared at the steadily flowing water beneath them. A stream of water, he suddenly thought. It gets in and out of here effortlessly.

His head jerked up as an idea came to mind. “Hey Cevian, can you ask one of the crawlers where this river leads exactly?”

Cevian sighed. “Henry, you can ask him yourself. He is right here.” Only now the exiled prince noticed the shape of a crawler next to her and jolted back. “Dammit, tell them they can’t just appear out of nowhere all the time. It startles people!”

Apparently, his hiss had come across more aggressively than he had intended as the crawler drew back and hung his antennas. “Hates us, the human, hates us?”

The question caught Henry by surprise. He stared at the crawler, then at Cevian, experiencing a, for him exceedingly rare, loss-of-words situation. There was no way he could answer that honestly.

“Hates us, the human, hates us”, the crawler repeated in response to his silence. Only this time it didn’t sound like a question.

“Henry!” Cevian’s voice was accusing. She grabbed him by the arm and he had no choice but to stumble along, to wherever she was dragging him. “We need to talk.”

“Hey! Let me go –”, but she was stronger than he, once more Henry found himself unable to escape her firm grip.

“You can’t go around making them think you HATE them!” They had arrived back at the furs they had used as beds and Cevian, at last, released his arm, to glare at him accusingly. “Henry, they gave us shelter in their fortress, they shared their food and they even provided us with a place to sleep.”

The exiled prince scoffed, rubbing his arm where she had grabbed him theatrically, before letting himself fall on his sheets.

Cevian cared little. “Their actions do not by any means justify your ungrateful behavior!”

Henry remained silent, suppressing another snort. It wasn’t like he didn’t know the crawlers had done all that, but he couldn’t just abandon all the negative associations he’d had with them his entire life.

“Henry, I hadn’t known you well up until now, yet both my parents told me only good things about you. But if you cannot even express simple decency in a situation like this, I will have to assume they were wrong about you.”

A wave of irritation welled up in Henry at her words for some reason. Before he could open his mouth to respond, she continued – “And I am certain if Thanatos was here, he would lecture you for hours about how disrespectful you are treating them. He would be disappointed.”

Henry averted his gaze, reluctant to admit how much of a nerve her words had struck. He was silent for a while, considering his options, before taking a deep breath. “Okay. Okay, you know what, you’re right. I know that you’re right. It’s just... My whole life I’ve...”

“... looked down on them, pitied them, thought of them as less because they are not strong? You wouldn’t believe how many species do that.” Cevian shook her head in dismay. “It is as common as it is wrong. Henry, do not let your misled prejudice cloud your judgment.”

The exiled prince snorted. “Like that’s so easy.”

“Hey. How about this”, her expression was unreadable. “All I ask is that you judge them like you yourself wish to be judged. By your actions in the present – not the past.”

Once more the exiled prince was left speechless. Her argument was impenetrable, he opened his mouth before closing it again, left with nothing to respond. There was nothing Henry – especially Henry the outcast – could ever respond to that.

Still, just abandoning what he had believed for essentially his entire life was impossible overnight. He explained that to her but added he knew she was right as well, and that he would try his best. Cevian soon realized that was as far as she would be able to get through to him, so she left it alone. Not without making him go back and convince the insulted crawler that he didn’t hate them, though.

Henry argued with her for nearly half an hour over it, but she ended up dragging him back by force. Convincing the crawler turned out about as hard as he had anticipated, it took Henry another ten minutes to get through to him he didn’t, in fact, hate him. They were indeed not the brightest creatures, but Henry decided he would at least tolerate them, for how well they had treated him and Cevian today.

The nibbler had returned to their cave after she had seen Henry was making a conscious effort to get through to the crawler, and the exiled prince found himself sitting by the river alone with him now. He was mentally exhausted from the argument, yet the sight of the stream brought back memories of the idea he’d had before Cevian had gotten mad at him.

“Hey, so, where does the river lead exactly? Do you maybe have some sort of map of this area?”, he finally asked the crawler.

“Some time ago nibblers helped us make map, they helped”, he responded, “can show you, I can.” The crawler turned to the exit, before confidently leading the way to a part of the citadel Henry hadn’t seen yet.

The exiled prince followed and soon entered a room that his echolocation told him was a perfect square. There was another brazier on the floor and after he had lit it, Henry found himself in front of a map, alright.

An entire wall of the square-shaped room was taken up by a giant carving, showing a plan of the citadel and the surrounding cave system in high detail. The place was larger than Henry had expected and had multiple layers, like floors.

He instantly approached, attempting to get a feel for the approximate layout. Soon, the exiled prince spotted the river and followed its course with his eyes. He indeed discovered it streamed beneath the citadel – and out of it, as he had suspected. “Hey, aren’t you guys scared the cutters might come through the tunnel with the river?”, he asked the crawler without taking his eyes off the map.

“Cutters cannot swim for long, cannot. Flooded entirely the tunnel is in most places, flooded.”

Henry carefully traced the course of the river with his finger and found there was a way from its tunnel to the exact cave Thanatos, the nibblers, and he had landed in. It was the last of the three tunnels – the only one the cutters hadn’t come out of.

When he traced the river further it seemed to end in a dead-end labeled “lake”. There were no other exits in the direction against the stream either. In fact, the spring seemed to be close-by. The only visible access points were the citadel itself – and the cave they had landed in.

A gust of hope swelled in him at the sight. “How narrow is this tunnel?”, he asked, voice audibly loaded with excitement.

“Not narrow, it could fit you and nibbler, it could.” He seemed to have guessed in what direction Henry’s thoughts were going. “But you can not escape through it, you can not. Cutters will kill you, they will. They are waiting in the cave, kill you, they will.”

Henry’s new-found hope collapsed like a faulty house of cards. That was a problem. The map showed it was the only possible way to leave the citadel unnoticed. He gritted his teeth. There had to be a way to utilize that, Henry promised himself he wouldn’t believe for a second there wasn’t.

“Hey, I’ll stay here for the night, okay? I want to think on this a little.” The crawler twitched his antenna, signaling he had no objections, and turned to leave.

Maybe five minutes later Cevian poked her head into the room. “Oh, there you are, I was wondering what was taking so long, and some of the crawlers told me you wanted to be taken up here.”

Henry nodded and showed her the map, explaining what he had found out and that he intended to spend the night here. Cevian was greatly pleased with his findings and told him she would stay if he would. Sleep seemed to be out of the question for her as well.

They sat down at the wall opposite of the map and examined it together. Henry sighed. At this point, he was firmly convinced the river was their advantage, their only chance. He had spent too many hours studying military strategies to not recognize a weak point in someone’s defenses when he saw it.

Henry frowned, attempting to imagine himself back in Regalia, in a lesson with Solovet. Were this one of her assignments, how would he solve it?

Seconds later he reprehended himself. Would this be one of Solovet’s assignments, he would have an army at his dispense. Had he an army, things would be much easier. He would launch a surprise attack on the cutters from behind, using the tunnel with the river as a means of transportation.

But he had no army.

“We may not have an army, but our number is as large as theirs”, Cevian remarked when he voiced his thoughts to her.

“Oh yes”, the exiled prince mocked. “The crawlers will help us.” He shrugged. “Well, I suppose, if worst comes to worst, we can always THROW them.”

At Cevian’s outraged expression he laughed. “Oh come on, where is your sense of humor?” She did not reply and Henry turned away in resignation. “Fine, fine. It’s not like they would kill anything if being thrown anyway. But what good are the crawlers if they can’t fight?” The exiled prince shook his head, frustratedly. What good are the crawlers if they can’t...

Then something clicked. Henry tore his eyes open – he saw it, clear as light, before his inner eye – the crawlers at the river, when the rats had attacked, during the quest for the Prophecy of Gray. They had told Gregor and his sister to run, and after they were through, had sealed the entrance shut with their bodies. Not even the rats had been able to penetrate their defense line.

Henry scrambled up and stumbled towards the map, almost falling again so much he hurried.

“Hey, what are you –”, Cevian frowned, but the exiled prince ignored her. His mind was occupied going over the possibilities this realization had opened up.

He approached the map and started mumbling to himself, deep in thought. Cevian watched him, somewhat confused, but reluctant to interrupt.

Around five minutes passed, then Henry turned around triumphantly. “I know how to beat the cutters.”


	15. Wielder of Light

Henry stood at the far end of the greatest cave in the citadel, gazing at the assembly around him in the light of the quietly crackling brazier. He had asked Cevian to call a meeting with all crawlers in the fortress, and here they were now, at least a hundred, more than enough for his plan – eagerly awaiting his input.

When Cevian signaled him they were all here, Henry went over his plan once more, to be certain he hadn’t forgotten anything. Then he turned his eyes at his audience and cleared his throat. “I know how to beat the cutters.”

His words caused a wave of murmur. “We cannot fight them, we can not. How can we beat them then, how can we?” Henry turned his head as a singular voice spoke and saw a crawler cowering at his right, antennas raised.

On a whim, he asked – “hey, you... are you the same one that led me to the map? And talked to me earlier? Are you their leader?”

The crawler in front of him twitched his antennas in approval. “Zick, my name is, Zick. I am the leader of the crawlers in the citadel, I am.”

They had a leader. That would benefit his plan. If he got their leader on his side the rest would be more inclined to follow him.

“That is good to hear. They will need a leader if my plan is to work.” Henry even gave something like a smile. Louder he continued – “yes, you understood me correctly – we will not run away, we will not out-stubborn them – we will fight them. And we will win. If all of you help, that is.”

By this point, he had the attention of the entire room, even Cevian was eyeing him curiously – “Well, don’t keep us waiting any longer, will you? Share your fantastic plan already.”

Henry threw her a smile. “All in due time.” He savored the moment of undivided attention a little longer, thinking how proud Solovet would be of him, were she here now.

_If they are to respect you as their commander, you have to act like a commander too, _she had always said. Henry had never actually been in the role of a commander, yet he had rehearsed the situation enough to be able to fake the experience he lacked.

He took a deep breath, consciously straightened out his back, and lifted his chin, before raising his voice again, only now realizing he would have to make this into a whole motivational speech. Oh well, he had always believed in winging it when it came to everything rhetoric anyway. What could really go wrong?

“I am aware that you are not fighters”, he began, “the cutters are, which means they outnumber us by a great deal. Cevian and I are skilled warriors, but even we cannot take hundreds of them at once.”

It was deafeningly silent now, except for the sound of Henry’s voice. His memory went back to one of his many classes on military strategies – out of all his subjects he had found that one of the most fascinating so it had held his attention for longer than a couple minutes... most of the time.

He recalled Solovet’s stern face and her confidently raised finger, and automatically raised his own.

“So, what do you do when your enemy outnumbers you? An ancestor of mine, who lived not long after Sandwich himself, once solved that problem with great effectiveness. He had even claimed his own strategy had been based on one that had, long ago, been used in the Overland.”

Henry explained the human general of ancient had been facing an outstandingly superior number of rats, compared to his own strength. So, instead of seeking direct combat, he had lured them down a narrow tunnel with multiple side-entrances, and from there set a trap.

The humans would wait at the side-tunnels and once the rats, inevitably forced to traverse the tunnel in a column, passed them, they would attack from there and split the single line of rats into multiple groups to fight separately. It had been one of the most glorious and unexpected victories the humans had ever celebrated.

“My plan now is simple”, Henry was unable to suppress a grin. “It is true we lack a narrow tunnel, or the number of warriors to split a mass like the cutters into sections, like my ancestor”, he paused, allowing his words to sink in, “but we have something else – we have you.”

Henry had to raise his voice to be heard over the murmur that arose among his audience. “Hear me – if Cevian and I can swim through the underwater tunnel to reach the cave outside without the cutters getting a chance to enter the citadel, we can surprise them from behind. From then, we force as many as we can out of the large cave into the three tunnels that lead out of it, thereby splitting their forces into four sections. And that’s where all of you come into play.”

Henry explained the crawlers could open up the front entrance to the citadel when the cutters were distracted by him and Cevian. They would be safe to exit and block the tunnels Henry and Cevian would have previously filled with sections of the cutter army, as well as the entrance to the citadel behind them.

“That way, Cevian and I can take them out in groups. First, we kill the ones we couldn’t force into any of the tunnels. After we dealt with those, you can open up tunnel by tunnel, letting the previously sealed out cutters in – to run into our sword and claws.”

The end of Henry’s speech was met with grave silence. Yet the silence wasn’t disapproving or hostile – no, everyone in the room was staring at him in shock like they had trouble believing what he had said.

“Henry, that...”, Cevian spoke first, “that is... ingenious...!”

The exiled prince shot her a brief smile. “I know. But we can only do it if you all help”, he addressed the crawlers again. He took another deep breath, “Believe me when I say this is your one chance to finally rid yourself of the threat from the cutters. Because, and I am certain of this, if we defeat them today, they will not bother you again in a long time.”

Henry opened his mouth, believing he had to do more to convince them, when suddenly a quiet clicking sound broke the silence. The exiled prince turned in its direction to discover what it was but then it began multiplying, and soon every crawler in the room was making it, to the point where it grew deafeningly loud.

“What in the world are they doing?”, he had to raise his voice considerably so that Cevian could even hear him. She smiled, “They are applauding.”

A few hours later, after having eaten and drunk, as well as taken a short nap to regain their strength, Cevian and Henry were standing in the cave with the river from where they would soon depart.

All they still needed was the okay from Zick that his people were ready. They had decided he would prepare the other crawlers and lead them out, as soon as Henry gave the signal.

“You are full of surprises, Henry, you know that?” The exiled prince turned to face Cevian as she spoke. Her gaze was somewhat amused but there was newfound respect in it too.

“I do try my best.” He grinned.

Cevian shook her head. “I can still not believe you... you... how did you even know all that? One could almost assume you had something to do with the army or received military training at some point.”

Henry tilted his head, his smile was more forced than natural. “Well, I did. Somewhat.” He sighed, of course he did. Ever since shortly after Hamnet had disappeared Solovet had selected Henry to instead be her successor as commander of the Regalian army. They’d had nothing else to do with him, he wasn’t heir to the throne, and she had recognized a certain talent for warfare in him, so they had decided that path would be for his best.

But he couldn’t say all that to Cevian or it would bring up questions about his former family and status. Not just anyone was chosen to be the next commander, after all.

“I... I did receive military training”, he finally admitted, “I aspired to be a military official at some point.” Well, it wasn’t an outright lie.

Cevian’s eyes widened. “You? A military official?” She let out a somewhat unbelieving “ha!” and tilted her head at him. “Had you told me this only a day ago, I would have laughed. Yet after your speech today...”, she hesitated, “It does make sense. That was seriously impressive.”

Henry grinned, yet couldn’t prevent it from coming across somewhat melancholy. Cevian squinted her eyes. “Did... hold on, was it even your choice? Or was it what your parents wanted for you? Did you...”, she hesitated, scraping a claw on the floor, “– enjoy it?”

Henry snorted. His choice? It had certainly not been his choice. Yet at the same time, he had never really complained, he even remembered a time when he had regarded it a great honor. The only thing he had found off-putting was the reason as to why he had been chosen.

The army could fix any problem-child, they always said. And Henry had happened to be a prince, so he had naturally been selected for a higher rank. It didn’t change much about anything else though.

“No, it wasn’t my choice.” Before she could interrupt him, Henry spoke on – “Yet I was never unhappy with it. In fact, I enjoyed much of the training and the whole concept. The only thing I could never wrap my head around or see myself practicing was the whole discipline and rigidness that is expected of a soldier.” He shrugged. “I like doing things my way, always did. In leisure as in battle.”

Cevian laughed, “Yes, that is why I found it so hard to believe. You don’t seem like a soldier at all, yet apparently, you think like one.”

They both winced as Zick appeared beside Henry and poked his leg with one of his antennas. The exiled prince jumped and the crawler drew back, quietly mumbling – “They are ready now, they are.”

Henry audibly exhaled, giving him a nod. “Good. We can get going then.” He glanced over to Cevian, “You ready too?”

“I am”, she nodded and quietly remarked – “Father has taught you our language, has he not? It might be better if we resort to it outside the citadel. I am unsure whether cutters understand human, but they definitely do not speak nibbler.”

Henry sighed and nodded, contemplating how much he would inevitably embarrass himself before he shouldered his sword and checked if all his pockets were sealed tightly. It would be less than ideal fighting the cutters wet from the river, but they hardly had a choice.

“What about you?”, he stared down at Zick, “Ready to do as we agreed and lead them out on my signal? You should also probably close off this access point to the river as soon as we’re through, in case any of the cutters do decide to attempt swimming.”

“I will do it, I will”, Zick approvingly twitched his antenna. Henry turned to Cevian, meaning to tell her to go first and lead the way out when the crawler raised his voice again – “Believes in us human, believes in us?”

The question caught Henry off-guard. He froze for a split second, then spoke, with a firm voice – “Yes, I believe this will work. I believe in you.”

The crawler lowered his head in gratitude and respect, and Henry managed to at least nod in his direction. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Cevian smiled, then averted her gaze and prepared to jump into the water. Yet before she could take her first step she suddenly turned back and he made out concern in her eyes. “Hey, Henry – as ingenious as your plan is, I believe there is one part you didn’t consider...”

The exiled prince froze and furrowed his brows, attempting to suppress the wave of uprising anxiety. He could not afford to have made a mistake. Not now. “What are you talking about?”

“How in the world are we supposed to fight the cutters – without light? We can’t carry any fuel or torches, not through the water.”

Henry blinked a couple times, before, to Cevian’s surprise, he began laughing. “Ohh don’t worry about light. I have us covered.”

“Is that so? And how?”

The exiled prince grinned. “That is a surprise. Just trust me, okay?”

Cevian eyed him skeptically and mumbled – “I swear if this will be the reason your plan fails I will make you regret it”, but eventually must have decided to believe him. After a last moment of hesitation, she dropped into the water and Henry followed.

The swim took them around five minutes, though to Henry it seemed much longer. The water was icy and the exiled prince feared he might get a cold if he stayed in it for too long, but this time he would have to risk it. At least it was physically not very exerting as they swam with the stream, not against it.

Cevian guided them through the tunnel confidently, and when they reached the exit tunnel that would eventually lead to the cave outside the citadel they both barely dragged themselves out of the water, shivering from the cold. Luckily, the tunnel was higher than the water level and they could at least sit on dry land, attempting to warm up.

“Dammit, I didn’t think this through!”, Henry complained while jumping up and down and rubbing his hands together to regain feeling in them. There were no cutters around so he spoke normally.

Cevian shook herself and the water from her fur gave Henry another cold shower. “Hey! Watch out!”

“Oh, sorry!”, she didn’t sound sorry at all.

When they had at least somewhat warmed up, some five minutes later, they began sneaking down the tunnel towards the cave and eventually reached the exit. As they carefully glanced out, Henry snapped his fingers a few times, to get at least somewhat of an impression as to what they were up against, and felt a shiver run down his spine at what unfolded before him.

The cutters had surrounded the structure of the citadel, which luckily stood firm as ever. He was unable to judge how many it were for he perceived them as a single mass, almost like a body of water. Most of them were sitting on the fortress itself, their combined mass covering the outskirts of the structure like a deadly blanket. Wouldn’t Henry know better, he’d say they were trying to break the stone with their jaws.

“We need to go!” Henry thought now was most likely the time to switch to nibbler and Cevian squeaked back approvingly.

The exiled prince used his echolocation again, to get a better idea of the room. He soon located the two other exit tunnels, and suddenly asked himself how they were supposed to chase the cutters into three tunnels, with only two fighters.

Just when he was about to voice his concern to Cevian, he noticed a sizable, loose boulder hanging over the largest exit, the one from where the cutters had mostly come from. He still sensed a lot of them in that tunnel and informed Cevian quickly.

“That’s how we’ll start”, Henry hesitated, trying to think of the correct sounds to voice his idea. “We drop the rock in front of the biggest entrance. Then, the rest of them will be sealed in here, unable to call for their reinforcements. The other two tunnels we can take care of personally. Luring them in might work.”

Cevian nodded, signaling she had understood, and Henry felt pride well up in him he had managed to express such a long and difficult thought in nibbler. “It might be for the better if you take care of the rock”, Henry continued after another moment of silence. “It’s pretty far up and looks heavy, I don’t think I can climb that in the dark. Besides, I have to stay here and make light.”

Cevian eyed him, visibly still eager to find out how exactly he wanted to make light, but Henry remained silent on that. She’d see soon enough.

Eventually, the nibbler nodded. “I agree. I have a better chance of getting up there and sealing the tunnel successfully. Though it’ll be difficult regardless to drop the rock so that it will exactly seal the entrance.”

Henry nodded and Cevian prepared herself to begin her ascent towards the rock. His gaze darted back over to the cutters, soon he would be fighting them, a species he had never engaged – and that at the side of... crawlers. Of all species, it were crawlers he had as his allies now.

_Together we will rid the Underland of crawlers and spinners and share their_

_land among us, _a voice suddenly rang in his ears. _I am tired of having cowards and weaklings as allies! _An unidentifiable shiver ran down Henry’s spine at the voice. His voice. He had uttered those words, what, four months ago, give or take?

The exiled prince couldn’t help but give a short laugh at the... plain absurdity of this entire situation. “How in the world am I even here now?”, he called out to Cevian, in human this time, “like, am I ACTUALLY doing this? Am I leading CRAWLERS into battle against an army of cutters?”

The nibbler froze in her tracks, glanced back at him somewhat accusingly, how Henry suspected because of the language, and nodded. “Yes. Yes, you are”, she squeaked. “We are.”

Henry shook his head in disbelief. “If you told this to my half-a-year-younger self he’d laugh at you, calling you mad. But here we are...”

“Here we are”, Cevian echoed, staring out into the dark cave, presumably considering what the best way to climb would be. He had almost not questioned it at all, but as he watched her he suddenly asked himself how she could see in the dark. Then he remembered echolocation was far more common among non-human species. He couldn’t be sure, yet decided they had more important things to bother with, so he pressed her not for a confirmation.

After a short period of silence, Cevian turned back to him and asked, to Henry’s surprise, not in nibbler either – “But if you find this so ridiculous, why ARE you doing it?”

The question caught Henry by surprise, he had already unsheathed his sword and nearly dropped it as his head jerked around to her.

“Why are you leading this attack – and not trying to hold out in the citadel, hoping for rescue, or for the cutters to give up?”, she continued, “You have not suggested attempting to sneak past through here yet either, which, if I’m being honest, is what I thought you would do originally.”

Henry stared at her and pondered on it for a second, then answered, surprised at the bitter resolve in his own voice – “Because I once promised myself that, before I die, the world would have to fight me for every ounce of life in my body. And this attack is the best chance we’ll get.”

This attack at the side of a species I had formerly deemed a useless ally, he thought, but chased the irritation it brought with itself. It wasn’t like he was doing this to do the crawlers a favor – it was only the best shot he had at surviving this himself. Nonetheless, it was unnervingly absurd.

“And besides”, he shrugged, switching back to nibbler, “you can see yourself that we have no chance at sneaking out. Our way back to the colony is the middle tunnel, and that is from where the cutters are mostly coming.”

It was too dark and Henry wasn’t sure, but he thought Cevian smiled. “You are right. And what you said earlier, that is an admirable attitude. I’m sure Thanatos would approve.”

They held each other’s gaze for a few moments before Henry, at last, took a deep breath. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

He nodded, internally recognizing the same went for him. As ready as he’d ever be. “Hey, the moment you see fire, you drop the stone. I’ll give you a minute sharp to reach it.” They exchanged a nod, then Cevian turned and Henry watched her disappear into the darkness.

He automatically counted down his timer in his head while fumbling with the wet leather pocket at his belt. He was already at twenty when it opened. Then he struggled to fetch a cloth and apply the correct amount of ignifer, in the dark. At least the jar Teslas had put it in was waterproof. Henry almost cut himself on the blade and cursed, nearly dropping it.

Eventually, he had applied approximately as much of the flammable mixture as he thought had to suffice, after having used too much last time. He had further focused more on the tip than the parts of the sword closer to his hand, to prevent the flame from getting too strong again.

Henry hastily stored the ignifer away as his count reached fifty. He fetched the previously readied fire stones, took position in the tunnel entrance, and counted down the last ten seconds.

Then he ignited the sword.

The blade lit on fire in a hissing jet flame that Cevian couldn’t have missed. The cutters hadn’t missed it either though. Like on cue, every single of them twitched and turned in his direction.

Bang. A loud noise had Henry jerk around, the fire from the sword illuminated his surroundings even better than he’d expected and he instinctively held it higher, like a torch.

Cevian, whom he soon spotted on a narrow ledge atop the largest tunnel entry, had managed to drop the stone perfectly, sealing the exit shut – and the cutters that had remained in it, out. The last thing Henry took notice of was her staring, wide-eyed, and registered it must be because of the sword, then he turned his attention back on the cutters closing in on him.

Instead of retreating, Henry took a flying leap over the rows of cutters seeking to chop him in half. The clacking their jaws produced as they opened and closed rang in his ears, but Henry allowed it not to distract him. He swung his burning sword and they drew back, in fear of the fire.

In the back of his head, Henry registered all of them had now left the citadel to fight him and Cevian, who had leaped down from where she had dropped the boulder and was luring the cutters, who had started chasing her, into the other tunnel. He had to get a move on.

Henry jumped as high as he could, leaving multiple rows of cutters behind him. As he thought he had trapped as many as he could in one go, he began chasing them into the tunnel he and Cevian had come out of. In retrospect, he wouldn’t have been able to tell how many he had gotten, yet he felt it hadn’t been enough.

Just as he had finished driving another whole section of them into his tunnel, Cevian jumped back out into the cave, over the heads of the cutters she had lured, and Henry knew there was no time left. He had to give the signal to the crawlers – now or never.

Henry put two fingers in his mouth and sounded a long whistle. In the blink of an eye, a stream of crawlers seemingly erupted from the earth where the entrance to the citadel had formerly been and instantly parted into three groups. The first and smallest group stayed behind to block the re-opened entrance, the second headed off to seal Cevian’s tunnel with their bodies, trapping the cutters she had led in, out. The third almost swept Henry off his feet doing the same with his tunnel.

He managed to give the crawlers on his side a quick thumbs-up, before joining Cevian in the middle of the cave that was now a battlefield.

The cutters were confused by what had just happened, Henry heard a pungent clicking sound seemingly originating from every individual that had remained in the cave.

“It’s working!” He screamed, standing back to back with the nibbler, fixating on the remaining cutters. For a second they hesitated, yet as off-guard as the attack had caught them, it was not hard to determine the human and the nibbler as the source of their trouble.

“It is!”, she responded while tearing her claws through the rows of attackers. The cutters had soon encircled the duo, aggressively clicking and charging them, attempting to use their still superior number to their advantage. But there were much fewer in the room now, and as Henry swung his sword at their rows, he felt confident he and Cevian could take them.

“But – a flaming sword – REALLY?”

Henry would have laughed, hadn’t he been fighting for his life. “Yeah! Light source enough for you?”

Cevian didn’t reply and Henry found himself preoccupied with the battle as well. In only a few minutes they had indeed managed to kill every single cutter that had previously remained in the cave and stared at their work, panting heavily.

“So is that what father helped you make then?”, Cevian shook her head, attempting to catch her breath. Henry nodded, “Well, at least I’m not cold anymore.”

“Ready for the next wave?” He knew the longer it took them to kill the current wave of cutters, the more crawlers would die trying to keep the rest out.

Cevian nodded and Henry swung his still burning sword in the direction of the tunnel the nibbler had been supposed to fill. The wall of crawlers immediately caved, releasing the second wave of trapped cutters, and joined to reinforce the other tunnel, though some remained motionless on the floor as well.

They finished this wave even faster than the first one, and Henry soon gave the signal to release the ones he had driven into his tunnel. This third wave posed no hassle either and they finished them off easily.

Heavily panting and not even a little cold anymore, Henry and Cevian took a few seconds to catch their breaths and collect themselves before opening the last tunnel – the one the nibbler had sealed with the stone.

Henry, as soon as he could speak again, told all remaining crawlers to return to the citadel and barricade themselves in – their job was done. It had cost the lives of more than a dozen of them, but his plan had worked like a charm, and overwhelming pride welled up in Henry, even though the battle wasn’t won yet.

Well, maybe the crawlers were good for something after all, he thought as he watched the last of them disappear in the citadel. Only if someone who knew what they were doing – like him – led the way, of course.

“This last wave will be as big as the first one, if not bigger”, Cevian uttered as she inspected the boulder. “I sensed many, many of them in this tunnel when I sealed it.” Henry nodded, absent-mindedly, occupied with staring down at his legs and combatting the pain that now took hold after the adrenaline from the battle had started to fade.

He gritted his teeth, attempting to keep himself standing. The lower halves of his pants were torn to blood-stained pieces, and his legs were covered in countless cuts that burned like fire. There were even some on his lower arms, from a few overly-ambitious cutters who had risen up to their hind legs.

Henry staggered forward, trying to disregard the pain. He couldn’t afford to give in now, not with how the most difficult wave quite possibly still lied ahead of them.

He determinately shook his head, in an attempt to chase the clouds the pain brought with itself, and gripped the handle of his sword tighter. “Let’s end this.”

Cevian nodded and, with joined efforts, they pushed the boulder out of the way. A hoard of cutters streamed out like a livid red river and for the first time, ever since the beginning of the battle, Henry felt a sting of fear. They were more than the first wave, and quite a bit more. Would the two of them actually be able to take them?

But there was no turning back now. He and Cevian positioned themselves back to back again, Henry gripped his burning sword with both hands, the nibbler menacingly spread her front paws with the sharp talons and bared her teeth. They sounded a harrowing battle cry as the wave of cutters hit.

Henry swung his sword maniacally, tearing through body after body. Adrenaline had taken hold of him once more and all he sensed was the mass of attackers in front, behind, left, and right.

He had no idea how much time passed, yet slowly but surely his arms were getting heavier. Henry tried to scream again, to reinvoke his adrenaline, but his voice would not obey him, all that came of his attempt was a cough. A jolt of panic hit when he realized he was using the last of his strength as he directed his sword at the lines of cutters that were still coming, not knowing whether he’d be able to lift it up again.

We won’t make it, he meekly thought. It’s too many.

Henry felt the sword slipping from his grip and his wounded legs giving way, when a huge shadow suddenly swept over his head, sounding a gut-wrenching scream that echoed from the walls and permeated every cell in his body.

For a second Henry thought he was passed-out and dreaming, until the shadow cried out to him, in a familiar voice – “JUMP!”

Henry hesitated not for a second. As well as his tired, injured legs allowed it, he started running, nearly slipping in the puddle of his own blood that had formed around where he had stood. He disregarded all cutters in his way, they were not the priority, not anymore. Channeling the last reserve of energy he could muster up, he leaped in the air, with spread legs.

Thanatos caught him immediately and as soon as he was in the air again, a swell of relief hit Henry like a tidal wave. For a second he lied on the flier’s back, sword hanging from his limp right hand, and pressed his face into his fur.

Henry thought he would start crying of happiness any moment when Thanatos spoke – “Seems like my theory of how you always get into trouble the second I leave you alone has proven itself true.” His voice was a little mocking, but at this moment Henry couldn’t have cared less.

“You know what, maybe you’re right”, he mumbled into the flier’s fur, only in that moment remembering the battle was not over, not even remotely. His head jerked up. “Hey, you can make fun of me later, for now, we have to kill those little shits down there before Cevian gets –”

But when Henry focused his eyes to check on the nibbler, someone was already fighting alongside her. “You saved Cylindra!”, he cried, raising his sword above his head to see better.

“Of course I did. Did you expect me to leave her behind?!”

Henry found there was no time to answer or ask questions. Feeling fresh energy swell in him from the hope the unexpected reinforcements had brought, the exiled prince swung his sword and joined Thanatos’ battle cry as he dove for their enemy on the ground.

Now that they could attack from the air, they tore through the rows of cutters with considerably less effort. Thanatos soon began circling above the grounded nibblers, eliminating any who threatened them from behind, when Henry had an idea. “Hey, can you fly upside down for a little? I want to try something.”

“If you can hold on”, was the flier’s only response.

Henry wrapped his legs around his neck firmly and made sure to grip Thanatos’ fur tightly with his left hand. Then the flier performed a hundred-eighty-degree turn and Henry found himself hanging upside down from his neck. He cried out and almost let go of his sword, barely keeping himself on.

The flier had apparently guessed his initial intent and flew as close to the ground as he could. Henry, after having somewhat adjusted to this new position, gripped on even tighter and stretched out his sword. With a single swipe, he struck down more cutters than he had in all the time since on Thanatos’ back.

The remains of the army were defeated in mere minutes.

None of them could truly believe it when the battle was over. Thanatos flew a few extra rounds to make sure all cutters were dead, and both nibblers crept around checking every nook and cranny.

After what seemed like an eternity, they all finally gathered in the middle of the cave. “We... we won!”, Cevian exclaimed and fell over, Cylindra dropped instantly after. Both nibblers were bleeding from cuts around the lower halves of their bodies, and Henry’s own legs weren’t any better.

He carelessly tossed his still burning sword to the ground before collapsing beside the nibblers, Thanatos next to him. “Yes”, he found himself genuinely smiling. “We won.”

Maybe a minute of satisfied silence passed when something suddenly touched Henry’s arm. He jerked around and stared at a crawler, inches from his face. Apparently, they too had understood the battle was over.

As Henry let his gaze wander he saw he wasn’t alone either. The exiled prince suspected more or less all of the surviving crawlers had assembled around them now. His gaze darted back to the one who had approached him. “Zick? That you?”

“It is me, Zick, it is me.”

“We won.” It was all Henry had the strength to say.

“We won”, the crawler echoed. A long pause followed during which the exiled prince barely registered undefinable murmur from the crowd of crawlers until a voice, at last, spoke clearly above the rest – “He has saved us, Wielder of Light, he has saved us.”

Henry’s head jerked up. “Wielder of – wait, what?” He looked around. The name echoed from the walls of the cave, seemingly coming from all crawlers around them at once. It didn’t take long for them to break into their tapping applause again, repeating – “He has saved us, Wielder of Light”, over and over.

“Henry, I think they mean you –!” Cevian’s voice was strained from pain – she had a few nasty cuts around her chest area they would need to bandage soon, but the pride and joy in her voice still dominated.

“Wielder of... Light”, Henry hesitantly repeated the name, “oh, you mean because of my sword –!” That exact moment the fire from the blade, that still lied at his side where he had dropped it, made a hissing sound and went out – what timing.

Thanatos tilted his head. “This really seems to be a thing now – not only do you get in trouble every time I leave you, but you also always somehow manage to gain a new title.”

They all laughed at that, more from relief than anything else.

After they had calmed down, Cevian added in a more serious voice – “They won’t forget this anytime soon, you know? What you did for them today” She smiled, somewhat knowingly. “All of the crawlers in the Underland will remember you for it, always”, she eyed him for a second, “even if you only did it to save your own hide.”

Henry gave a pained grin. “Oh well, let’s just call it – mutual need.”

Cevian’s smile widened. “However you may call it – you are their savior now. You will be the boy with the flaming sword, who led the crawlers into victory against an army of cutters, for the rest of your life”, her gaze was pensive. “Whether you like it – or not.”

The next hour the two nibblers and Henry used to dry off the last remaining river water and patch up their worst wounds while Thanatos, who wasn’t injured and didn’t fit through the entrance of the citadel, kept watch. For the cutters to return, or any other nasty surprises.

The crawlers had given the “Wielder of Light” and his friends all the fabrics they had and Henry had purified as much water as the little pot allowed, to clean their wounds and quench their thirst.

Cevian was the worst case, her limbs and chest bled badly and the exiled prince knew they would need to properly treat the wounds back at the colony. Henry’s own legs were colored in a uniform red from the blood of countless cuts, and his pants had been torn to shreds. He ended up having to sever every piece of hanging fabric below his knees.

While tending to their wounds, Cylindra told them how Thanatos had saved her, when the cutters had attacked, and carried her into the tunnel Henry and Cevian had later sealed off with the boulder. They had hidden out near a river, unable to pass the cutters as the tunnel had a low ceiling, and unwilling to go back to the colony and abandon their friends either, at least for the next few days.

“We would have gone and gotten reinforcements, had we not heard of you in three or four days. When your supplies would have come close to running out”, Cylindra said. “Because, first of all, the trek back was dangerous even for us, possible, but not without severe risk. The cutters were everywhere. And second of all, what even would the colony have been able to do to aid you, even if we had informed them?” They had agreed to keep watch for whether Cevian and Henry would find a solution on their end, so she said.

Then, approximately a day after they had been separated, Thanatos had returned from a scouting trip informing her the ants had all disappeared and the passage was free to traverse. It had turned out the cutters had gone to fight Cevian and Henry who had opened up the sealed tunnel. And when the flier and the nibbler had arrived back at the citadel at last, they had stumbled directly into the ongoing battle.

Despite the tale being anything but boring, Henry found himself barely able to keep his eyes open. He was insanely tired, and so were they all. It was quickly and unanimously decided they would make the trip back to the colony as soon as possible, after having tended to the worst injuries.

“Hey, now the cutters will know not to bother you anymore”, Henry addressed Zick when he disclosed they needed to leave.

The crawler vibrated his antennas. “Your clothes are damaged, want to take anything, want to?”

At first, Henry didn’t understand what he meant, but when Zick led him to a stash of leather and furs, that should have probably served as trading goods, Henry understood he was offering him gifts.

Apparently, Thanatos had been right, back in the rat prison – the crawlers were generous when you helped them.

Cevian eyed him dismissively, when he accepted the offer without hesitation, picking up enough leather and fur to get a whole new set of clothes. When Henry discovered some elongated rat bones beneath the materials, he was ecstatic. “This is exactly what Teslas asked me to bring, now he can finally reinforce my rat tooth dagger!” For so long he hadn’t been able to use it in fear it might break – now he had the materials to change that. About time.

Zick had no objections to Henry taking the bones as well, and when the exiled prince exited the citadel, loaded with goods, the already waiting Thanatos shook his head. “Henry, they thanked you, praised you – entitled you the “Wielder of Light”, and what do you do – you rob them blank!”

The exiled prince just grinned and shrugged. “Hey, they OFFERED me the stuff. What was I supposed to do – refuse?”

Cevian, Cylindra, and Thanatos all watched him attempting to keep his stash from falling over and exchanged glances, silently shaking their head at his apparent lack of humility.

“Well, as shameless as he is now, you should have seen how he behaved before I had a serious talk with him”, Cevian mumbled, “this is honestly a considerable improvement, as hard as it may seem to believe.”

“Oh, I can imagine”, the flier responded, and Henry shot them all death glares, from beyond his stack of goods. But as annoyed as he was with his judgmental friends, nothing could have truly ruined his mood at that moment. He had gotten to test the flaming sword in the field, fought and won an epic battle, acquired enough materials to expand his wardrobe significantly, and could call himself the savior of the crawlers now – for whatever that was worth. All in all, the trip had been a full-on success, at least in retrospect.

He climbed on Thanatos’ back, this time joined by Cevian who was too injured to run, and took a brief look through his new materials. Excited for all the new fashion possibilities they opened up, he exclaimed – “Hey, Death – with all I have here, I think I’m going to get a coat!”

“Great for you”, the flier’s voice dripped with sarcasm. He performed a last, honorary round through the cave and Henry saw a singular crawler standing at the entrance to the citadel. Cevian and Cylindra spotted him too and cried “Run like the river, Zick!”

After a final moment of hesitation, Henry uttered the words himself – “Run like the river.”


	16. Loyalty

“What?!” Henry jerked around, tripping over the supply crate he had just set down.

“Don’t... look so surprised. It’s not like I can stay here forever.” Thanatos’ eyes were half-closed and he persistently avoided Henry’s incessant stare. The exiled prince realized he was kneading his hands and quickly hid them behind his back. He attempted to sound normal, despite the lump clogging his throat. “When?”

“Tomorrow, probably.” The flier’s voice was nonchalant, even somewhat distant. As if he was talking about something so trivial it wasn’t even worth giving it his full attention. “Today I’ll rest, enjoy a last day here, and then I leave.”

Tomorrow. A strange emotion rose in Henry, a bit like panic, but more numb. Like someone had closed their hand around his heart and squeezed it dry of fluids. “But why?” His own voice sounded strange like he was passively watching himself speak. “Where will you go? What will you do?” There were so many questions in his head he barely found words to voice them.

“I have things to do, Henry.” The flier rose, spreading his wings defensively. “Is that truly so hard to believe?”

“But why now all of a sudden?”, the exiled prince threw his hands in the air, “You were fine staying here the last two weeks – and the three months before that. Why leave NOW?” And why are you not taking me with you, he internally screamed, but his voice betrayed him and all he could do was helplessly stare.

Thanatos finally met his gaze and Henry was taken aback by the amount of grim resolve in it. “Why would you care? It is my business and my decision what I do, and what you do is yours. Are we on the same page here?”

Henry found no words to respond, so the flier continued – “Be glad I even told you ahead of time. Besides, it’s not like you don’t have enough things to occupy yourself with. You’re needed here. As for me, I’ve spent long enough at this colony. It’s about time to move on.” With that, he leaped and lifted off, soon disappearing between the dense vines of the jungle.

Henry had no choice but to remain, plopping down onto the supply crate beside him. His gaze followed Thanatos until he had disappeared out of sight.

What... was his problem, the exiled prince grimly thought. It wasn’t like the last two weeks here had been exactly boring. Quite on the contrary, ever since they had successfully liberated the crawlers, Lovelace had apparently decided it was her turn now, to make the decisions as to how Henry spent his time, and no longer Teslas’. In the fourteen days that had passed since then, he and Thanatos had been out on trading missions or errands constantly.

On one hand, Henry missed working with Teslas – on the other, he missed being able to make decisions for himself. Was that what bothered Thanatos so much? Maybe he did understand his decision after all.

Henry gave it a conscious thought. As pleasant and secure as life at the colony was, the more he thought about it, the more he began feeling like it suffocated him, slowly but surely. It was a little like back in Regalia. Somewhat carefree, and mostly safe, but there was constantly someone bossing him around, expecting things of him.

He blinked a couple times, leaving actually didn’t sound so bad. As much-needed a break their time here had been, Henry felt a sudden craving for novelty rise in his chest. For a moment he was surprised, why would he deliberately want to leave a safe zone like this? Hadn’t this kind of sheltered security been exactly what he had wished for, back out in the Dead Land?

Henry had no answer to his question, all he knew was that he thought he understood why Thanatos wanted to leave. The part he didn’t understand was, why he was leaving him behind.

Then again, what was so hard to understand about it? Henry forcibly unclenched his fist as he reminded himself of what both of them had claimed countless times – they were neither bonds nor had they any real obligations towards each other. Nothing was stopping Thanatos from leaving – technically. And yet something about it still felt wrong.

Why? Sure, the last two weeks they had spent nearly all their time together. They had explored more of the jungle, visited the other nibbler colony at the Fount, flown over parts of the waterway, and briefly scouted the Labyrinth, the part of the rats’ land that lied further south. They had further crossed the Vineyard of Eyes numerous times, to the point where it had even started to get slightly less scary.

It had almost been like old times – like before they had come to the colony, only without the constant arguing. In fact, they had begun getting along really well, better than they ever had. So much so that Henry had begun thinking of Thanatos as a good friend. He had grown so accustomed to having the flier around, that he genuinely didn’t know how to feel if they were separated now. Had that been just him?

But even if all of that was true, if they were indeed friends at this point, the exiled prince had to remind himself, it didn’t change anything about their lacking obligations towards each other. Or – fear suddenly gripped Henry, had it been him, had he done something wrong? Had it all just been in his head, about how they had begun getting along better?

Then again, in that case, why wouldn’t the flier tell him? He had never shied away from being vocal about anything that bothered him in the past. All too well the exiled prince remembered their argument at the lake after he had refused to save the crawlers.

Frustratedly, he shook his head. He was clearly overthinking this, and he never overthought, usually. If anything, he acted without thinking too often, or so he had been told.

Henry found his feet carried him towards the curtain of vines and in the direction of Teslas’ workshop almost on their own.

Somehow, he had made it a habit to seek comfort with the inventor, whenever he had any sort of problem with Thanatos. He had a curious talent for logically sorting out emotional issues, and he usually seemed to grasp the problem at hand immediately, while Henry himself often struggled to understand what he had done wrong, if anything. Maybe he’d be able to shed some light on this.

The exiled prince mindlessly tugged at the fur collar of the new coat he had made with the leather he had taken from the crawlers. It was nice and long, reaching down to his knees, and fairly warm. He usually only wore it outside the jungle and began unbuttoning it now, as the heat was slowly but surely becoming uncomfortable.

The process of making it had had its complications – never having tailored in his life, Henry had accidentally cut a sleeve off, shortly before completion. He’d been furious at his own mistake, thinking he’d ruined the material and would have to start from scratch, until Cevian had suggested cutting the second sleeve off too and wearing them separately from the coat, like gauntlets – without the hands. So instead of a long-sleeved coat, he had ended up getting a sleeveless one.

But that wasn’t the only new clothing item he had made with the materials from the crawlers. Henry had, in the aftermath of the battle, pointed out sandals offered virtually no protection and decided they were unfit for the life of an outcast. Instead, Teslas had helped him make a pair of robust and surprisingly comfortable boots, using the soles of the old sandals. For further protection, he had used stripes of leather to tie layers of fur around his lower legs. Now a cutter try and penetrate that.

In the last moment, he had remembered wishing for something that would help him tread more lightly. Following Teslas’ suggestion, he had prepared pieces of fur, usually tied on with the rest, to unfold and fasten around the soles at will. That way, he had the means to sneak far more effectively, and proper, protective footwear.

“Teslas, you there?”, Henry called when he reached the curtain that covered the entrance to the inventor’s workshop.

“If you come to check on your dagger, I am nearly done, I promise”, Teslas’ voice sounded from inside.

Henry sighed. Two entire weeks had passed since he had brought him the materials to reinforce it, but for some reason, every time he came to check whether Teslas was done, he wasn’t. And even though that hadn’t been his objective today, it had still been in the back of his head, as it usually was these days. “The hell is even taking so long?” He shoved the curtain aside and made his way to the forge in the corner of the room, looking around for the black nibbler.

His head poked out from behind his table. “Listen, you want to use the thing as a weapon, right?” The exiled prince nodded. “In that case, bones aren’t enough.” Teslas searched through some of the loose scrolls scattered on his table, picked one out, and held it up, in Henry’s direction. “I’ve conducted a few pressure experiments and come to the conclusion I’ll need to stabilize it with metal to make sure it doesn’t break the moment you use it on anything harder than flesh.”

He climbed over his table and walked over to the forge. “I needed to make a bunch of custom molds for the metal frame, that and the experiments took their respective time, but I am done now. All I need to do is make the thing. I promise you’ll have your dagger this very day.”

Henry’s gaze darted from the scroll over to Teslas and he grinned in anticipation, almost forgetting Thanatos and why he was actually here. “Really?”

“Yes, really”, the nibbler grinned. “And besides, it would take me much less time if LOVELACE would let you help me, instead of sending you away all the time”, he added, somewhat grumpy.

“Nothing I can do about that”, Henry shrugged.

“I know, I know – eh, metal, metal, where did I leave my stash of spare metal...”, Teslas mumbled to himself as he walked over to a more distant part of the room in search of metal.

Henry stared after him, contemplating whether now was a good time to bring up Thanatos. He absent-mindedly fumbled with the clasp of one of his pockets when he realized something... Teslas needed metal.

After making and changing into his new attire he had also been compelled to rearrange and organize the contents of all his pockets and had made a few discoveries he would have rather left untouched. But if he was going to use this thing for anything – Henry gave it some thought, in a way it would be fitting for it to be this.

“Teslas, I have metal for you.”

The nibbler came into view again. “Oh really? Where would YOU get metal? Besides, who cares WHAT metal it is. Metal is metal.” He came to a halt in front of the exiled prince, holding up an iron ingot he had fetched from his stash.

Henry took a deep breath. “I care. Because this metal is special.” With trembling fingers, he unfastened the clasp on his pocket and closed his hand around the item in it. Henry slowly pulled it out, stretched the hand in Teslas’ direction, and revealed an intricately ornated ring of gold.

The nibbler’s eyes widened at the sight. “Is that... your...” – “... crown? Yes. Or, it used to be, that is.” Henry averted his eyes.

“But you can’t give that to me!”, Teslas protested, vehemently shaking his head. “Why not?”, Henry shrugged, “I want you to use it. It’s not like there’s anything else I could use it for anymore.” In a quieter voice, he added, “I’ve lost the right to wear it, so it might as well serve a new purpose. A practical one, for a change.”

Noticing the curiosity in Teslas’ eyes, he pondered for a second – then made a decision. He could almost hear Thanatos’ voice scolding him for not thinking things through enough, but Henry ignored it and sat the crown down on the table, turning away.

“This was the crown that once belonged to Prince Henry of Regalia – before he committed treason by conspiring with king Gorger to form an alliance between humans and gnawers.”

Henry wasn’t facing Teslas, but the shock in his voice was imminent when he uttered a single “... what?”

The exiled prince sighed. “He... was a foolish teenage boy, who thought he could regain the feeling of safety he had lost when his parents died by allying himself with the strongest species in the Underland and the source of his fear. He thought he could end the pointless conflict between their species yet he made a mistake by trusting Gorger. In the end, he paid for it when he was dragged off a cliff by his new “friends”.”

He finally turned back to Teslas. “That was the day Prince Henry of Regalia died. And the dead do not need crowns.”

Grave silence followed his confession. Teslas stared at him with widened eyes before slowly turning to face the crown on the table. Another moment of silence passed, then the nibbler spoke, Henry could make out a slight tremble in his voice – “It... it all makes sense now. Why you can never go back, why you wished for me to not disclose your identity...” He hesitated, taking a deep breath – “You are a traitor.”

Henry bit his lip at the word, it still stung even though he had long been forced to accept what he was.

“I... Honestly, I was afraid your secret was something like this, but a rest of hope remained.”

The exiled prince threw Teslas a glance. Suddenly he feared to have made a mistake, trusting the nibbler so unconditionally. Sure, he had known him for a while now, but still – this was not a secret to disclose lightly. “Will you... what will you do with this information?” What if this changed the inventor’s view on him for good? Or even worse, what if he decided it would be the right thing to do to go and tell the humans about him now?

Teslas guessed his fear. “You want to know if this... changes anything?” When Henry only nodded, the inventor gave him a somewhat sad smile. “As I said before, I’ve sort of expected something along those lines. So no, it does not change anything.”

He paused, visibly pondering, “Even if... it is hard to believe you would betray your species – you clearly had your reasons and you made a decision – in the past. Arguably a bad decision, but...”, he flicked the table in search of words, “I... I can’t just change my view on you, that I’ve established through experience over the course of months, simply because of this additional piece of information. And you know why?”

Teslas shot him a sympathetic glance while Henry forced himself to stop kneading his hands – “Because I know you. And I know you are not a bad person, though you do come across that way sometimes.” He shook his head. “But in all seriousness, neither do I know how you felt, nor why exactly you did it. It is not my job or intention to judge, especially without seeing the full picture. And nobody sees that, Henry, except for yourself.”

The exiled prince finally looked back up at him, eternally relieved to have this off his chest. Thanatos’ reaction, all the way back in the rat’s land, came to mind – he had said a similar thing. Maybe people weren’t as judgmental as he had always feared.

Or he had just gotten lucky in terms of the friends he made.

“I wish everyone was more like you sometimes, you know?”

“Oh, I can certainly see why”, Teslas laughed, “you would definitely want to live in a world full of eccentric hermits who do nothing but sit in their lab all day.” Both of them broke into laughter at that.

When they had calmed down, Henry took a deep breath, relieved the atmosphere had eased up, and glanced back at the crown. “So, will you take it? I can no longer stand the sight of it, honestly. And, at least, it can serve a purpose again this way.” His smile was melancholy. “It’s solid gold – it will make for a nice frame.”

Teslas slowly nodded. “A dagger from the tooth of the rat king with a frame of gold from the crown of a prince. This is truly going to be an extraordinary weapon.”

The inventor was silent for a while, inspecting the crown. “Of course, there is far too little material for the entire frame”, Teslas mumbled, carefully taking the crown up, “And as you may or may not know, gold is not the hardest of metals. I’ll need to mix it with something, to harden it, but that won’t pose much of a problem. I think I have an idea...”, he mumbled and Henry thought he could have performed a series of backflips right before his eyes, as zoned out as Teslas was, he wouldn’t even notice.

He had already shrugged and turned to leave as the inventor raised his voice again – “So, Prince Henry of Regalia is dead, you say. But if that’s the case... who is currently standing in front of me?”

Henry stared at him for a moment before taking a deep breath. “That... depends on the day you ask.” He averted his eyes. “On a bad day, I would say, the walking dead remains of what used to be Prince Henry of Regalia – on a good day, a reincarnation of him, that received a second chance at life, a chance at not making his mistakes.”

“And what day is today?”

Henry pondered, before finally meeting his gaze again – “Today is the day I acknowledge not one of the answers is true, but both, in their own ways. I am the rest that remains of him, the paltry, resistant part that wasn’t shattered to a million pieces at the bottom off that cliff, as much as I am his second chance at life.”

Teslas’ gaze was pensive and sympathetic. “I see now why you hesitated to talk about this, and I understand you are putting a great deal of trust in me by doing so. I will try to live up to that trust.”

Henry gave him a little smile. “If you could help me spread it around the colony that my name is a secret that cannot be revealed to anyone – especially any humans – that would already help me a great deal. And if I could finally have my dagger, of course.”

At that, they both started laughing again.

Teslas joined Henry later that day while he was doing target practice with his new and improved slingshot. The inventor and he had made it soon after he had become his apprentice. It was now from better material – and, most importantly, consisted not of a cut-off sleeve – making it more robust and increasing the force and velocity of the fired shots.

After the exiled prince had given him the crown, Teslas had sent him away, claiming he would finish the dagger on his own, and later bring it to Henry, as a gift. The exiled prince had left, as frustrated as before, for he hadn’t had the chance to talk about Thanatos’ decision to leave. So instead, he had let his vexation out on the targets and the stones.

Now, he focused his eyes on the wall in front of him, which already showed several dents from where his projectiles had hit. He raised his arm and began twirling the slingshot, gritting his teeth in agitation.

Henry was torn. The pressure of having to decide whether his alliance with Thanatos should turn permanent weighed on him uncomfortably. On one hand, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to make that decision yet, on the other, a part of him thought he had made it long ago.

He spared Teslas not a glance as he approached. “It is done, Henry.” The nibbler’s voice sounded solemn and his eyes shone with excitement.

Instead of paying attention to him, the exiled prince shot his last stone, it hit the wall only a few inches away from Teslas’ head, and the inventor winced, letting out an alarmed shriek – “Hey, it’s not like I don’t trust your aim, but PLEASE...!”

Henry, at last, sighed and lowered the sling. “Sorry...”

“Hey, are you okay? Did something happen?” Teslas finally noticed his bad mood. “Hey, you should be EXCITED! Wait until –”

“Thanatos said he’d leave. Tomorrow. Without me”, he blurted out, unable to hold it in any longer. “That’s why I initially came to see you, I – I needed to... oh, I don’t know, talk... ask you –” Henry’s voice failed him and he stared at Teslas helplessly, who widened his eyes – “What?! He... oh.”

Like in shame, the nibbler lowered his gaze, “I should have asked you if something was up earlier, but then you showed me the crown and we got caught up in –”

Henry didn’t let him finish. “No, it’s fine. You’re not my personal agony uncle.” He pressed his lips together, “I know what you’ll say anyway – that I should deal with my problems like a grown-up and face them head-on. But I can’t. Not this time.”

Teslas couldn’t help but chuckle as he plopped down on the floor, right underneath the wall with Henry’s dents. “You know what, actually, you’re wrong. An agony uncle is exactly what I am, considering how much you’ve come to me with all your problems recently. I don’t mind though, with a friend like Thanatos you need all the moral support you can get.”

For a short moment, a grin appeared on Henry’s face and he sunk against the wall next to Teslas before he remembered the desperate situation he was in. “I cannot face this problem head-on.” The stone was soothingly cool on his hot skin, “I asked him why he wanted to leave, and all he said was “I have places to be”. It’s not like I have any right to demand of him to stay – or to take me with him. Besides, he’s right. What legitimate reason do I even have to care?”

“Is that what he said?”, Teslas snorted, “That you have no reason to care?” Henry nodded. “And he is right, I do not. But for some reason –”

“– you do care, hm?”

All Henry voiced was an exasperated sigh.

Teslas laughed, genuinely this time. “You two are great, you know? I have never in my life seen two so unwilling to admit they care for each other.” Before the exiled prince could protest, he spoke on – “But the thing is, both my daughters have grown fairly close to him, and both say they sense he needs you as much as you need him.”

Now it was Henry’s time to snort. “Yeah right. What in the world would HE need me for? He’s fine on his own, he’s been for years. Decades. However long he’s been fine on his own, so evidently.”

“What would he need you for...” From the corner of his eye, Henry saw Teslas shaking his head. “He needs you because he enjoys it. I am certain he’d rather die than admit to it, but he does.”

“Enjoys what?”

“Taking care of someone.”

The nibbler’s words hit Henry unexpectedly, for some reason. He tore his eyes open.

“He protects you, teaches you, smacks you when you do stupid things.”

Henry only silently stared at him, unable to think of anything to say.

“He doesn’t show it, I know, but he cares for you. And that kind of companionship, bond – that is usually shared among members of a family or close friends – is exactly what he hasn’t had in ages – and most likely longs for desperately.”

The exiled prince still didn’t utter a word and Teslas sighed. “You said it yourself, he’s been living in exile for, wait, it must be more than... six, no, seven years now – on his own. Well, what do you think he’s starved of most?”

Henry blinked in surprise. He had never given a single thought to whether Thanatos was feeling something along the lines of “lonely”. The flier had never given him any reason to do so.

Seven years. Henry bit his lip and shuddered at the thought of spending such a long time in solitude. Maybe Teslas was right. Maybe that was it, why he had agreed to ally himself with Henry in the first place. It was hard to believe, considering the flier’s temper and attitude, but so was the mere thought of spending seven entire years in the Dead Land – by himself.

When he voiced his thoughts to Teslas, the nibbler broke into laughter. “You know, Prince Henry of Regalia may be dead, but – of all things – the selfish brat in him survived!”

All Henry did was throw him a death glare.

“It holds such excellent irony”, Teslas spoke on, “here, after all those years, Thanatos finally finds a companion, and that companion happens to have the empathy and social sensitivity of a rock.”

“Oh, so it’s all MY FAULT now!”

“No, dammit!”, Teslas had to suppress laughter. “Nothing is your fault. Except for the part as to why you ended up in exile. But that’s not the point right now!” The nibbler sighed at his opponent’s furiously narrowed eyes. “Henry, in all those months, did you seriously never ask yourself why he went into exile?”

“W... went into?” The exiled prince gazed at the nibbler, wide-eyed. “What do you mean, “went into”?” Did Teslas imply Thanatos had run away on purpose? Not even for a second had he considered that. Nobody did that, at least nobody with a healthy sense of self-preservation.

“So, he didn’t even tell you that much.” Teslas shook his head. “I only know of it because Lovelace keeps me informed. I assume you have heard of the incident at the Garden of the Hesperides?”

Henry nodded. Of course he had. Everyone old enough to have memories of it, had. He’d had just turned six – old enough.

“Well, I have no idea as to what exactly happened, and even if, it wouldn’t be my story to tell. The only thing I know is, after what happened that day, Thanatos moved to Regalia permanently from the land of the fliers. And around three years later he vanished entirely. I had already left Regalia, but the news had reached even here, from our colony at the Fount. They asked us to keep an eye out for him.”

Teslas uncomfortably dragged his claw over the stone. “Not that they found him, of course. Everyone assumed he had died, but apparently, he’s as alive as you and I. Not that it should come as a surprise to anyone, though. He has always been, well – durable. I’m sure you know what I mean.”

“Oh yes”, Henry knew all too well. Prior to his exile, he had thought Ares extraordinary strong – which he, without a doubt, was. Thanatos was on an entirely different level, though. Some of the things he had seen the flier do verged on impossibility.

“So he... actually – ran away?”

Teslas shrugged. “I’m fairly certain.”

“But who in the world does that?” Henry rose again, furrowing his brows. “Exile is a form of execution! Running away verges on suicide!”

“... precisely.”

For a second Henry didn’t understand what Teslas was trying to say, but then the realization hit and he audibly exhaled. “You mean, he...”, the exiled prince shook his head as he sunk against the stone yet again. “What in the world happened that could drive someone to... to... leave everything he holds dear, to languish in solitude forever?” To try and kill themselves in... that way.

It made little sense. Henry thought how he himself would give everything in his power to go back to civilization and failed to come up with a single reason as to why someone would do that to themselves, even if they desired death. There were so many easier and faster ways to die, and it was no way to live either.

“Henry, only he can tell you why.”

“But he’d surely rather die than talk about anything from his past. I mean, it’s Thanatos we’re talking about.”

“And that’s exactly what I mean when I say you two are great!”, Teslas exclaimed, “A brooding loner-flier with trust- and commitment issues the size of his ego, and a selfish brat with an ego of the same size, who acts like he doesn’t care about anyone other than himself.”

Henry snorted and looked away. What did Teslas expect of him? To risk being insulted and screamed at, all for the sake of providing “emotional support” to someone who didn’t even ask for it?

“That is not what I ask, it is what he needs”, was the answer Teslas gave when Henry asked.

The exiled prince remained silent for a while, contemplating whether that had been Teslas’ suggestion for what he should do to solve his problem. He, at last, came to the conclusion it was, and almost wished he’d have never asked. Then again, if that was indeed the only advice he’d get out of the nibbler, there was one more thing he needed to know.

“But... if what you say is true, and he is indeed lonely, why in the world did he decide to leave then?”

Teslas sighed, though it sounded suspiciously like a groan. “Boy, have you not listened to a word I said? I’ll say it again, then – COMMITMENT ISSUES. He realizes he’s getting attached to you and it probably scares him, so he is taking extreme measures to counteract the undesired attachment.” The nibbler shook his head. “He probably thinks it’ll go away if he ignores it for long enough.”

“So... he’d rather go back to his solitary existence than admit he is lonely?” The moment he uttered it, Henry knew his question was futile. It was Thanatos – of course he did.

“Hey, you wanted my advice, here it is – if you truly care about him, you’ll talk to him.”

Well, that solved that question.

“But don’t you dare mention it was me who told you the things I did – or I’ll personally rip your head off, got it?”

The exiled prince nodded, contemplating how to handle this. He couldn’t just walk up to the flier and confront him with it, and even if he would never admit it out loud, the nibbler had been right in one case at least – he wasn’t great with emotional support.

Henry had to suppress an eye-roll and slowly prepared himself to stand and go look for the flier. He’d manage somehow, maybe he only needed to stop overthinking it again, when Teslas stopped him – “Hey, so are you going to claim your new dagger or can I keep it for myself?”

The exiled prince stared at the weapon presented to him and was barely able to believe his eyes.

The tooth he had cut off the rotting carcass of Gorger, what seemed like ages ago, had, on one hand, been transformed beyond recognition, and on the other, managed to retain the feeling of a tooth. The form and shape was one part, the color another.

Henry even hesitated for a moment when he first stretched his hand out to take it, as if it was a phantom image that would evaporate into thin air the moment he touched it.

Teslas had reinforced the previously carved dagger with two pieces of bone, to form a total of three blades, placed around the original tooth in a triangular shape.

The by all means magnificent dagger was slightly curved and had two incisions, tightly wrapped in a thin rope, to help keep the bone reinforcements on the tooth. Though they were made almost unnecessary by the frame of metal that shone in gold, it was fastened around the reinforcements and shaped two of the three blades, as well as the tip. All of them were honed razor-sharp and the hilt Teslas had wrapped in layers of silken fabric, to make it more pleasant to hold.

The former tooth hadn’t just been made into a usable tool. No, this was a full-fledged, battle-ready weapon, as robust as any conventional, similarly formed, blade.

“Teslas, this is –”, Henry was genuinely speechless. “This... this is so much more than I ever expected this thing could be turned into. Frankly, when I first cut it off, I didn’t even have a plan or anything. But you – you turned it into the most amazing weapon I’ve ever seen!”

The inventor grinned. “I know. This IS the most amazing weapon I have ever seen either, and I’ve seen a lot. Hence why I’d love to keep it”, he mumbled the last part to himself, but the exiled prince pretended he had heard nothing. “I’m sure it’ll serve me well.” It was the only thing he could say, and the greatest compliment he could give.

Henry’s eyes shone with excitement as he carefully turned it in his hand and for a moment he forgot he was essentially on the brink of losing his best friend, and still had to go have a talk with him.

Teslas soon handed him a fitting sheath and pensively tilted his head. “Henry, you know what – I think this thing is so special it deserves a name. To, you know, emphasize its uniqueness.”

The exiled prince pondered for a moment. He inspected the masterly crafted dagger, then spoke – “Well, what if I call it... Mys?”

Teslas narrowed his eyes. “You want to call it... “Rat”? Because it is the tooth of one?”

Henry threw the weapon from one hand to the other, to test its weight and grip. “Well, sort of – but also because it belongs to the one the gnawers themselves mocked as the “Prince of Rats”.”

Teslas understood. “A homage to past mistakes AND a wordplay on its origin... Henry, you might have found the perfect name indeed.”

The exiled prince, at last, slid it into the sheath and make-shift stuck it into one of his belts. “I know.”

“I will come with you.”

Thanatos, who had been resting in their bedroom-cave, looked up when Henry appeared before him.

“You will... what?” It took him a second to process, then he lowered his head again. “Henry, why would you want to come with me?” He closed his eyes in resignation. “Alright, in all honesty, the reason I need to leave is, I have some business to attend to. Something I need to take care of, from before we met. Your presence wouldn’t serve any purpose.”

“So, you intend to come back then?”

Thanatos opened his eyes again. He looked like he wanted to answer but remained silent. In a way, his silence spoke for itself.

“You cannot convince me otherwise.” Henry’s voice was firm. He gripped the handle of Mys and found it brought him comfort, like gripping his old dagger, he had lost at the cliff, had used to.

“But why do you...”, the exiled prince interrupted him – “You know, I could also ask you as to why you do NOT want me to come. “Your presence won’t serve any purpose”-aside. Because I don’t care about whether my presence serves a purpose. Question is, do you really want to talk about that now? Because, you know, I’m perfectly fine if we don’t.”

He hovered in the entrance for a moment before sitting down beside the flier. “I don’t care where you go or what you have to do. Like, I couldn’t care less.” The exiled prince took a deep breath. “All that’s important is, that we are a team. That we are... friends.” And that we have mutual need. It seemed like the term fit them better than he had originally thought.

“And besides –”, Henry tried to put on a cheerful tone, “I get why you want to leave. This place is starting to make ME feel trapped as well.”

The flier curiously raised his head, eyeing his opponent suspiciously. “Yeah. You’re not the only one”, the exiled prince nodded. He had given this some thought earlier and believed he had figured out why he felt that way about the colony. “It may be safe and comfortable, but it takes away the things I appreciated most about exile – the freedom to do whatever you want, and there not constantly being people ordering you around. Teslas and Lovelace and the rest may be nice, but I’ve had enough for now. Like you.” Which you could have guessed, honestly, he suppressed to add.

The flier was silent for a while before he, to Henry’s surprise, voiced a short laugh. “And do you have a plan as to where you want to go?”

The exiled prince faltered, unbelievingly staring at Thanatos. Had... that been it? Had it really been... that easy? Maybe Teslas had been right, he pondered. Maybe he does... care about me more than he lets on.

“You mean after we’ve taken care of your “business”? Eh, not really. But come on, these things are only any fun if you figure them out on the fly.”

“Is that so...”, Thanatos hesitated, fixating his pensive, amber gaze on him. “You are really willing to come with me? Not even knowing where I am going or what my “business” is? Or if we’re ever coming back?”

“Of course.” Henry closed his eyes, leaning against the wall. “You’d do the same for me... wouldn’t you?”

“So, you are actually... leaving?” Cevian’s voice sounded dejected. It was the next day and she and her family, consisting of Teslas, Lovelace, and Curie, stood at the beach next to the hot spring.

Henry grinned at the rare sight of the inventor outside his workshop and nearly dropped the reserve of fuel he was about to pack away. In his new backpack he’d already stored supplies, fabric, a spare set of clothes, and as much ignifer and recently finished extinguisher as Teslas had made at that point, together with his personal belongings. He had made the bag from the leather that hadn’t gone into the coat or the boots, and it was much bigger and had more pockets than his previous one.

He donned the new coat, made sure the sword belt around his upper body was tied and Mys was secure at the back of his hip. He had tried out several spots to carry it and had found that one the most comfortable.

“You got that fancy new dagger of yours, right?” Thanatos mocked, “I don’t want to hear you complain having forgotten –”, before he could finish his sentence he had to duck and dodge the empty torch Lovelace had given Henry that he’d thrown at him, instead of packing it away.

“Okay okay!”, the flier laughed, “Just making sure...”

Henry kept shooting him death glares as he picked up the torch and stored it away, at last. Thanatos would find his way without light, and he should conserve fuel as much as he could.

“Oh, shut up, you all!” He turned to the giggling entourage of nibblers. “We’ll meet again! When I run out of ignifer at most!”

Teslas shook his head, but his smile was sad. “I’ll work on it”, he promised, messing the ground beneath with his claw. “I’ll not only make more, but I will try to find ways to improve it. Mainly solve the problem of how long it takes to apply.”

Henry nodded and grinned at him, before remembering – “Hey, you will keep my identity and name a secret, especially should you meet humans, right?”

Lovelace nodded. “If that is what you wish, we will.”

Henry shouldered his backpack, fastened the front belt, and finally mounted up, looking back at the four nibblers. He couldn’t believe how fond he had grown of each and every one of them, and that he probably wouldn’t see them in a long time now. But his mind was made up – belonging to a community again had been great, much needed in so many ways even, but Henry realized he had had enough for a while. What they would do now, where they would go, he didn’t know. All he knew was he was ready for an adventure. And he also knew he wouldn’t find it here.

Curie was busy pressing her little nose against Thanatos’ face. The two had grown so close and watching them say goodbye surprisingly tugged at Henry’s heartstrings. “Hey, you’ll see him again, Curie”, he called in her direction, “Us both. I promise.”

“We’ll hold you to that”, Lovelace smiled.

“Fly you high!”, Teslas cried, and the others joined in.

The exiled prince raised a hand to wave. “Fly you hi-, eh, I mean, run like the river... wait... which one is it?”

Thanatos laughed, as he leaped in the air and took off, disappearing into the jungle, in the direction of the Vineyard. “You’re unbelievable.”

“So, where exactly are we going?” They had left the jungle behind a while ago and Henry saw the distant glow of the waterway before Thanatos, at last, flew out of the tunnel and soared above open water.

The flier had disclosed he’d need to cross it east to west, as his destination was the Dead Land beyond. It was only a flight of a couple hours and for the first time, Henry asked himself what exactly the flier’s “unfinished business” was.

“I have something to settle with... someone I insulted a while ago. Entirely unintentionally, of course.”

“Of course.”

“ANYWAY –”, Thanatos interrupted, “For that, I’m meeting someone close to the west coast of the waterway, in the Dead Land. It’s... eh, I’ll explain the details later, okay?”

Henry didn’t press him for it. He was happy Thanatos had allowed him to accompany him at all.

They flew over the glowing, endless-seeming water silently. The exiled prince spent the time mindlessly staring out to the sea, his gaze eventually wandering in the direction of Regalia. Somewhere, beyond so much water that not a single flier had yet crossed it in one go, lied his former home.

“Do you miss it? Regalia, I mean.”

The question caught Henry off-guard and he hesitated – “I... I do.” He quickly decided to be honest. What good would a lie do him now? “Oh, who am I kidding”, he then exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, “I’d give anything to be able to return there. But it’s impossible.”

Thanatos didn’t respond and they were silent for a while. Henry didn’t mind though. Flying like this, over the open sea, he could almost forget all his worries. A sudden sensation of endless freedom engulfed him and his head began spinning, but in a good way. At this moment Henry knew for certain, with Thanatos at his side, he could face all imaginable dangers with a smile. It was a kind of security and certainty different from the one he’d experienced at the colony and he quickly found he liked this one better. It seemed to come without the suffocating side-effects.

Henry smiled out in the direction of the open water. Who needed city walls when he had this all-consuming freedom?

Not him, he realized, and for the first time, to his own surprise, the thought of Regalia did not fill him with desperate longing.

The flier landed directly on the coast. It was a steep cliff, the foaming waves of the waterway beneath, but Henry wasn’t scared. Not this time.

He mounted down and Thanatos’ ears twitched nervously. “Hey, you okay?” The flier nodded. “I’ll be fine. The guy I need to meet isn’t here yet. Care for a lunch break?”

Instead of an answer, Henry unpacked the loaf of bread the nibblers had given him and Thanatos flew out to catch a few fish. The exiled prince decided to conserve fuel and eat them raw, as the waterway gave off enough light to accommodate them – and he had actually grown accustomed to the taste.

They ate in comfortable silence and were about to wrap up their meal when it happened. Everything went so rapidly, that, in retrospect, Henry wouldn’t have even been able to tell the exact order of events. One moment, he and Thanatos were sitting atop the scaly stone cliff, eating lunch, the next they were surrounded.

Not even Thanatos had heard them coming – had they both grown so accustomed to safety they had thrown overboard all caution?

The around half a dozen spinners descended from the dark ceiling, and, within seconds, had webbed up Thanatos entirely. The flier was able to give off a last, muffled “help!”, then his mouth was covered as well.

Henry had barely enough time to process what was happening, let alone react in some way. As soon as the spinners had webbed the flier and lifted him up and away into the darkness, out of sight, they turned to him.

An icy thorn of fear pierced Henry’s heart as his brain, at last, processed what was going on. They approached and the exiled prince threw a last, desperate, glance in the direction where Thanatos had disappeared to, and did the only thing he could – he dropped his fish, turned, and leaped into the wet, black depths of the waterway.


	17. Alone

When Henry surfaced at last, he snorted and coughed desperately, attempting to empty his burning lungs of water. He saw and heard nothing besides the incessant ringing in his ears, and frantically beat the icy waves with his arms, to stay on the surface.

His hair stuck to his face, his heavy coat, the backpack, and footwear felt like they were made of lead, tugging at him, wishing to drag him under. Henry blinked excessively and wiped at his face, attempting to at least rid himself of the water in his eyes, yet when he could finally see again, he almost wished he couldn’t.

Behind him was the cliff he had jumped from, and in front of him – nothing but open sea.

A gust of wind hit him and he trembled from cold, attempting to keep himself steady. Just as he had somewhat stabilized, Henry was hit by a wave and submerged. He saw stars for a second and barely managed to surface again. His lungs burned and lights sparked before his eyes, he barely registered the waves were getting even bigger.

An icy claw of panic gripped Henry’s heart as he was helplessly dragged along by the water like a tiny paper boat in a torrential stream.

He was perfectly aware of how the only reason he was still alive was his vast experience in swimming. Though the battle he was fighting with the waves now was nothing like the days he had spent at the beach with his family, organizing swimming competitions and having fun dumping buckets of water on the adults.

He had always felt comfortable in the water, always made fun of those who could not swim as well as he, yet now, overwhelming helplessness swept over him. He could swim, but there was nowhere to swim. No forward, no backward. Nowhere to get back on dry land either – nothing to hold or climb onto – the cliff he had jumped from was entirely vertical, and there were no rocks in the water.

The only choice he had was to head in a random direction and hope for the best. Trying to suppress the uncontrolled rattling of his teeth, Henry attempted to follow the cliff, hoping it would get shallower eventually, or for there to be a spot to climb up somewhere.

Even though the exiled prince knew that, under normal circumstances, he could have easily swum for an hour straight or even longer, with the icy water of the waterway he felt like he was not making any progress at all.

His backpack and sword hung on him like weights, and the leather of his coat and his boots limited his movement considerably. But Henry knew he couldn’t succumb now, or he would drown. And he was determined to prove it took more than a little bath in the waterway to defeat him.

Soon his movements became automatic and his limbs began numbing from the cold. I need to get out of the water, he thought, I need to get warm, and that soon, or I’ll faint from hypothermia – but there was nowhere he could have gotten out.

He didn’t even bother worrying about what might be lurking around or underneath him in the unexplored depths of the water. If a monster wanted to surface and eat him now, there was nothing he could have done to stop it regardless.

But there were no monsters. Henry was so focused on moving his more and more tiring limbs to swim, he at first overlooked the black silhouette in the distance, against the ghastly glow of the water.

It must be an island, maybe half a mile or so from the coast. If it was an island, it could be his salvation. An island would surely have an accessible beach for him to land on.

Fully aware he was gambling everything on a non-confirmed possibility, he began heading towards it. Would it turn out to be a mirage or inaccessible, he wouldn’t be worse off than now.

Henry ran on nothing but the iron determination to live as he swam, and when he finally made the island out clearer, spotting a sandy beach on the side facing the mainland, he could have cried in joy.

With the last of his powers, Henry made it to the beach and dragged himself out of the water, collapsing instantly. His head was screaming at him he needed to get up, out of the wet clothes, and light a fire to prevent hypothermia, but he had used up his last energy reserves and his body refused to obey him anymore.

Henry had lost all sense for the passage of time. He might have spent five minutes lying on the beach or five years, only focusing on the ground beneath his body and passively observing his limbs growing number and colder with the second. His eyes began to flutter and he felt himself drifting off into the oblivion of sleep when, from the corner of his eye, he suddenly spotted movement.

A jolt of adrenaline ran through his body and Henry immediately jerked up. His head started spinning and his legs nearly gave way, but the sensation of fear had returned some life into his body.

Fueled by adrenaline and an emotion close to panic Henry stumbled forward, barely seeing where he was going, and nearly tripped over his own feet or obstacles in his way multiple times. Not for a single moment he left the corner from which the movement had come out of sight. The last thing he needed was, for whatever creatures inhabited this land, to catch him off guard. Not that his current state would have allowed him to be on guard for anything, though.

The exiled prince watched not for where he went, all he recognized was a wall in front of him – something like a mountain – and a tunnel leading into it. He cared not for where he would end up, all he knew was he needed to get somewhere safe, somewhere with a single entrance he could defend, where nothing could get to him from behind, so he stumbled into the tunnel.

After the first turn, the light streaming in from outside faded and Henry had to stop as he saw nothing anymore. With shaking, icy hands, that barely had any feeling in them, Henry managed to pull out the container with fuel, which was thankfully waterproof, and his fire stones – his fingers were too limp to snap and use echolocation.

He somehow lit the torch he had brought and nearly dropped it, with how little control he had over his hands.

For a few minutes he remained leaned on the wall, trembling excessively, trying to warm his fingers on the fire. When he, at last, trusted his hands so much he could properly hold things again, he slowly stood and nearly slipped in the puddle of water that had formed around where he had stood, dripping from his hair and clothes.

Henry supported himself on the wall and began walking further in. He needed a cave, somewhere to sit and light a proper fire to warm himself.

The exiled prince walked for what felt like an eternity, but in truth might have only been a few minutes, until he came to a crossroad. One of the paths mounded in exactly what he had been looking for – a mid-sized cave with no other exit and a few stones in the right height and shape to sit on.

It took Henry several attempts to light a proper fire with the torch, without burning himself or wasting fuel, but when it was finally burning, an immense wave of relief washed over him. He collapsed on one of the stones as close to it as possible and allowed the pleasant warmth to seep into every drenched inch of his body.

At first, Henry did not know how he would ever move again, but he knew the fire wasn’t enough. He’d need to rid himself of the wet clothes.

Piece by piece he moved his fingers and peeled them off until he wore nothing but his undergarments. Trembling with cold more than ever he pulled the only warm clothing item he had – his coat – around his shoulders and sat as close as he could to the fire. It was wet and unpleasant at first and Henry thought his teeth had never rattled like this, but the fire warmed him and soon dried out the leather. And slowly but surely his body temperature rose, more with every passing second.

Henry had no idea how long he had sat there, half an hour at least, until his limbs had, one by one, regained feeling, and the piercing cold that had enveloped his body had given way to warmth again. He gazed into the calmly crackling fire and thought he was wasting fuel by letting it burn for so long – then again, this was exactly the kind of situation it was for – life or death.

When Henry was so warm he stopped shivering, he decided it was time to move. He had more things to dry than himself. The exiled prince carefully stood up, coat still wrapped tightly around his shoulders, and started collecting his randomly lying around clothes. He carefully laid them out next to the fire, as close as possible without burning them.

Then he proceeded to do the same with the contents of his backpack. The containers of fuel and the ignifer, as well as extinguisher, were waterproof, so they had not been affected. His water bag was equally well. What had suffered the most was the food. All of it was essentially worthless now, except the fruit, and Henry frustratedly tossed what used to be a loaf of bread into a corner.

For a second, fear for his own, and his mother’s, notebooks gripped his heart until he remembered Teslas had stored them, together with his pencils, in a waterproof container he had made specifically for Henry – _A little safe case, _he had said, _for all your precious. I have a feeling you’ll one day be glad to have protected the damageable things from water._

Oh how glad he indeed was, Henry thought. They were but a little moist, and half an hour by the fire would surely fix that.

The exiled prince further emptied the pot he carried to cook off the water it had collected, placed the ball of string, all of his fabric, and spare clothes next to the fire. Then, he laid out his weapons – the sling, Mys, and the sword had not suffered, only the sheaths he had to empty of more water than they should be able to fit.

After he had finished laying all his things out to dry, Henry sat back down, took a piece of fruit, and started eating. He had only a vague idea of how long it had taken, another fifteen minutes maybe, but eventually, he felt dry enough to get up and dressed again. His linen clothes were still a little damp and once he had put them on, he immediately wrapped the coat around himself again. How eternally grateful he was to have gotten it. He had known having a coat would be useful. Living out by yourself, so Teslas had said, was all about preparing for situations you would never expect, so that’s what he’d done.

His hair had dried as well, like most of the other things, yet Henry decided to keep the fire burning for a little longer. Even though he despised himself for it, he feared it going out and leaving him in the dark. As long as he just had light, everything would be okay.

Light. Life. The exiled prince watched the flames dance and throw eerie shadows at the wall, and suddenly felt the urge to shift into a direction from where he could watch the entrance of the cave.

He must have sat there another ten minutes at least when his brain finally started catching up with everything that had happened. Slowly but surely the realization overcame him – he was here, on an unknown island, half a mile away from the coast. An island that was probably inhabited too, at least if he could trust his own eyes.

Alone.

Henry tore his eyes open as a wave of panic inundated him. His head began to spin again and hadn’t he been sitting, he did not know whether his legs would have supported him.

What... had even happened? He forced his throbbing head to think, to remember, through the mists of panic that clouded it now.

They had sat on that cliff, him and Thanatos – Thanatos. Another tide of terror hit him like a bucket of cold water, accompanied by a second unwanted emotion – helplessness. What had happened to him...? The memory seemed so faded, like a dream.

Maybe this WAS all a dream – a terrible nightmare, like the ones he still suffered from. Maybe, any moment now, he would wake up, back at the cliff, and Thanatos would laugh at him for being scared of a dream.

Henry knew he was lying to himself, yet his mind latched onto the thought as it promised safety. The safety he himself had so thoughtlessly dismissed, only a few days ago. Oh, why had he insisted on undertaking this trip? Henry cursed his own recklessness. He could be at the colony now, laughing with his friends, building things with Teslas...

Yet Thanatos would have been gone, still. Kidnapped. Never to return.

Why couldn’t this all be a dream? Henry knew it wasn’t, and he forced himself to think it consciously, it is real.

As real as the fear.

They had sat at the cliff, and they... they had kidnapped his flier before his eyes. He had never seen or even heard of spinners leaving their territory, let alone attack or kidnap. They were business-people, not warriors... were they?

He found the moment replaying before his inner eye over and over. The shock and fear in Thanatos’ eyes, when he had been taken, had burned itself onto Henry’s inner eye and he could not shake it. He glanced down at his hand, seeing it tremble, and tasted blood from where he was biting his lip.

The sensation of helplessness threatened to drown him, worse than the waves of the waterway. He’d had no choice. Thanatos had already been almost out of sight when Henry had understood what was happening. He couldn’t have done anything, he told himself, over and over. If he hadn’t jumped into the water like he had, he would have been abducted as well – or worse.

But something in him refused to believe running away had been the best option. He had sworn to himself he wouldn’t run, and here he was, sitting miserably in this cave, after having done exactly that. In what way was escaping and abandoning Thanatos better than suffering the same fate alongside him?

The feeling that had swept over him when he had understood Ares wasn’t going to save him, the day he had fallen off the cliff, pierced him – was that what Thanatos had felt when he...?

Wait, no, what was he thinking? Henry shook his head. Of course not. Thanatos was not his bond. He had no reason to treat their lives as one. And yet he felt guilt and helpless desperation gnaw at his heart. He feared to have caused the same pain in someone else, and he detested his own cowardice for running.

Henry was so focused on the maelstrom of emotions within he barely noticed the movement at the entrance. Only from the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse at something – again. He jolted up at once and staggered forward, calling into the darkness for whatever that was to just come out instead of tormenting him like this.

Or was it all in his head? Did the hypothermia and the fear cause him to see things now? Henry thought he would collapse any moment, his breaths became choppy until he started hyperventilating and felt an urge to gag, like something was stuck in his throat that just wouldn’t come out.

He reeled back to the wall and retched, pressing his forehead against the cold stone, desperately attempting to calm his breaths.

It was a panic attack, he had had those before. He knew how to handle them. He had... known, at some point, but his mind was blank.

He couldn’t, Henry squeezed his eyes shut, he couldn’t let the panic win him over. He needed to do something.

Then, from the furthest corner of his memory, a little boy clawed his way into his mind, a boy of barely eight years, who had hidden out in his quarters, attempting to combat the same emotions as he now.

_You want to be the Death Rider when you grow up? _For a second, Henry wasn’t sure whether the voice was real or in his head so he jolted around, back pressed against the stone.

_You’re not the Death Rider. _He was so perplexed he forgot his panic for a moment. Then he remembered – remembered who that was, the boy.

_You can’t be the Death Rider when you’re scared like a sissy. The world should fear you, not the other way around._

Henry stared at... himself, back in the nursery, the old nursery. It was like he was eight again, staring up at the looming mural. _You can’t be scared. He’s not scared. He’s not EVER scared. Are you any less brave than him?_

The exiled prince swallowed and closed his eyes. He hadn’t the mural itself to comfort him, but he had his memory of it. For a moment he allowed himself to leave this place, to travel back in time, and look at it. Inspect every detail, the little smudge of paint on the Rider’s left leg, the flames he had always pictured dancing around the sword.

His eyes jolted open and latched onto his own sword. For a moment he was tempted to ignite it, to have a real version to gaze at, yet after a short moment of hesitation, he suppressed the urge.

Henry suddenly felt overwhelming disgust for himself. He would not waste the precious ignifer on recreating a stupid memory. What was he even doing, indulging in childish fantasies when he was still in constant threat of an attack?

He frustratedly clenched his teeth. Now was not the time for any of this. It was time to get a hold of his weapon, secure himself. Not close his eyes to dream. Things were under control, he took a step in the direction of his weapons. He had his sword, and he had the fire. He wouldn’t be scared of the dark like a wimpy little kid... would he?

The pitch-black entrance crept into view, the fire that threw ghastly, dancing shadows at the wall. Henry shuddered. Maybe... he would.

Anything could be out there, watching him, and he wouldn’t even know. He was here, in this entirely remote and unknown place – and for the first time ever since Thanatos had saved his life – he was entirely alone.

Despite his best efforts, tears filled his eyes. He was alone. If he cried for help now, there would be nobody who would come – or even hear. Henry sank against the wall and slid down to cower on the floor, as far away from the entrance as possible. He pulled his legs to his chest and wrapped the coat even tighter around his body. Not for a single moment, he left the entrance out of sight. His right hand reached for his sword and pulled it closer, until it was lying at his side, ready to be drawn and used.

Henry was overwhelmingly tired. From the flight, the swim, and everything after. But his eyes stayed wide open. As long as they were open, nothing could surprise him. He was in control, as long as they were only open.

He felt like he was physically unable to close his eyes, like something had stapled his lids in place. All he could do was sit, curled up, leaning against the wall, gripping his sword as tightly as he could – and stare at the entrance.

Henry had almost forgotten how it felt like to fear closing his eyes. His memory reeled back once more to the time shortly after his parents had died – to the little boy. He attempted to chase the thought as a useless nuisance but it caught up to him regardless.

Henry vividly remembered days he’d been so scared he had locked himself up in his quarters, refusing to leave or even eat and sleep. It was like he was there again, in the body of his younger self, sitting in this exact position, curled up in a corner, gripping a weapon, and staring at the door, for what had felt like days.

Except he wasn’t in Regalia, and his fear was justified now. Only the thought of Luxa prevented a second panic attack, how she had always cheered him up, how they had played pranks on their teachers, how he had taken her to the old nursery to show her the mural – and the secret tunnel – for the first time, once she had grown old enough.

She had always been able to alleviate the fear. Henry almost managed a smile. Of course, she had.

Yet despite everything, all the fun they had had as children, everyone who had always assured him he was safe and cared for – the fear had never entirely left. Rather, it had become a part of his life. Something he had learned to live with, yet had always been pressing at his mind, showing its ugly face in the form of nightmares and panic attacks.

Had she sensed that in him? This vulnerability, had it made him especially susceptible? Was that why she had approached him in the first place?

How had she even known where he would be, that day? What was it now – half a year ago at least. Henry wished not to remember that day, yet he had lost control over his thoughts hours ago.

He had been out on a trip with Vikus, Solovet, and Luxa. They had taken a picnic out to the riverside and he and Luxa had played a ball game. The ball had rolled off into a side tunnel and Henry had run after it – directly into the claws of a rat.

He had thought he was done for when he had first seen her. Yet despite his fear, she hadn’t harmed a hair on his body. Instead, she had only laughed, in that disgustingly innocent way, and started asking him questions.

Henry remembered her fur, shiny and silvery like the metal. And her eyes – every single other rat he’d ever met had always had hatred in their eyes when they looked at a human – not her.

And as she had asked him questions, she had told him about herself in return. Only now Henry thought he grasped why her name was Tonguetwist.

That day at the lake hadn’t been the last time he had met her, not by a long shot. At times, he remembered thinking she was the only one who understood him, understood what he wanted, feared, needed – and lacked.

And gradually, she had filled his head with pretty lies. Henry recalled her words, frightened by how clearly he remembered them.

_Nobody really wishes for war, but what are we to do? Our species bear century-old hatred for each other, do you not think it will take great effort to change that – on both sides?_

Lies.

_I find your own foresight and lacking bias so refreshing, you know? The fact alone you come here to meet me is surprising in so many ways. I wish more humans were like you, perhaps then we would already have peace._

Lies. Lies. Lies. The word echoed in his head, and for the first time, he began asking himself if there had even been a single ounce of truth in anything she’d ever uttered.

But back then he had listened. Of course he had. He had listened, and he had believed. Most of the things she had said, had been in his own head as well, a surprising amount even. He had only never dared to say them out loud.

How the conflict was unnecessary, how rats and humans should unite instead, to rule over the Underland as the two strongest species – together.

How he deserved his recognition alongside Luxa. Instead of Luxa.

She had spoken freely of so many things he had felt guilty even thinking, and won sympathy with sad stories about her past – her dead partner, and her pups, most of which had died right after birth. The sole living one – he was almost certain her name had been Twirltongue – she had said was the only thing still precious to her in life.

And one step at a time, one sob story after another, she had gained more and more control over his confused, desperate for power and attention, teenage brain.

Henry shook his head in anger. This was her fault, all of it. Hadn’t she picked him, tempted him, twisted the words in his mind and on his tongue, he wouldn’t be here now.

The exiled prince desired to blame it all on her so much, yet a last rest of certainty all of this was as much his own fault as it was hers, if not more, remained. Hadn’t he listened to her and followed her like a child following the enticing smell of candy he wouldn’t be here either.

It was so absurd in so many ways, how could he have ever allowed someone – let alone a rat – to drive him to betray his own people? His friends and family?

He had been scared. That’s how. Henry loathed being scared, it crumbled his confidence and his power and seemed to strip him of all his achievements, everything he was proud of. And the more he thought over those of her words he remembered, the more he understood Tonguetwist had recognized and used it against him. His fear, his desire for strength, power and recognition, his pride and confidence.

How much of that had he still left? He had been humiliated, shown up, and discarded like garbage. He had no pride left. Then again, had he even the right to be proud? Or had he lost it, together with the right to wear his crown?

A wave of shame hit him and he pulled his knees even tighter to his chest, desperately attempting to hold back the tears. The fact he was here now was not Tonguetwist’s fault, it was his, and his alone.

Luxa had helped him keep his own fears at bay, and what had he done to pay her back?

A sharp claw of self-loathing dug into his heart and Henry forcefully chased the silvern rat from his mind. She did not matter, she was miles away, she could no longer exercise power over him.

As little as Tonguetwist, mattered all of them – Luxa, Nerissa, Ares, Vikus, Solovet – they all had been there, back then, when he had thought himself so misunderstood and alone. But they did not matter. Not now. Because now, they weren’t here.

Now, he was truly alone.

Henry had no control over his thoughts. They reeled in random directions and all he could do was sit, cowered against that wall, for what felt like hours. The fire went out entirely after a while, but the exiled prince remained motionless, unable to get up even if he wanted to.

Sitting in the dark was even scarier than in the light, but it was still better than going out there, into the black hole, beyond which his brain conjured up fearsome monsters, waiting only for him to move.

He could not move.

Henry’s eyes burned with exhaustion, but as little as he was able to move, he was able to close them. The moment he closed them, that shadow he had seen earlier would come out and attack.

There was nobody keeping watch, so he wouldn’t sleep. The knuckles on the hand he kept on his sword were white from how firmly he was gripping it. All Henry wanted, was for this nightmare to end, for there to be light, for a familiar face to wake him, make fun of him for being scared of a dream.

But of course, that wouldn’t happen. Nothing would happen, he suddenly realized, nothing at all. He thought back to the numerous ways he had pictured himself dying out here when he had asked Thanatos to kill him – and saw a striking image of himself – in this very position, curled up in a dark cave, starving to death.

Alone. Forgotten. Useless.

He would die, Henry thought. Of a monster, of hunger or thirst, in whatever way – he would die, and that was a fact.

Unless he did something about it.

Henry’s thoughts had become so chaotic, so indistinguishable from each other he winced as a single voice suddenly cut them like a knife –_ The hell you doing _– _sitting in that corner, ready to cry like a baby! I thought you were a fighter, not a loser!_

At this point, he knew so well how Thanatos sounded it was like the flier was truly here, like he had just fluttered in, to find him like this. _Get your sorry ass out of this cave, Henry, sitting in here will do you no good and you know that!_

The exiled prince knew his unconscious was speaking to him through the familiar shape of Thanatos, trying to wake him from this vegetative state he had almost given up hope on overcoming.

For a second, he mustered up the strength to wonder, with all his thoughts of the past, why... Thanatos? He would have been less surprised about Luxa, Vikus, or even Ares, but Thanatos? It was a strange voice for his unconscious to pick, then again, his thoughts were so chaotic he doubted there even was a reason. What mattered was... at the end of the day, it was right.

It took all his strength to think it, yet Henry knew the voice was right. He needed to get up. He could continue sitting there in the darkness, waiting for the monsters to come and get him, or he could stand up, go out, and face them.

_You said you would fight the world for every ounce of life in your body, didn’t you? Well, the hell is that spirit now? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? _Thanatos’ voice continued to mock and Henry felt a shiver of shame indeed. A part of him was glad the flier was not actually here, to see him like this. Then again, were he here, Henry would not be in this state at all.

_Every ounce of life in your body_. His own words rang in his ears and he recognized their meaning, and what his bitter, desperate, four-month-younger self who had uttered them would expect of him in this situation.

There had been life in him when Thanatos had held him, claw to his throat, ready to kill, there had also been life in him when Cleaver had tossed him over the cliff. Those had been real, dangerous situations, and he had survived them all. How was it in any way justifiable to give up now? Now that he didn’t even know if there was imminent danger at all?

The answer was straightforward, yet terrifying – it wasn’t.

It took the exiled prince another ten minutes to gather up the spirit and strength to move. Stiff with exhaustion and from sitting in the same position for so long, Henry slowly moved his legs, straightening them out. Then he reanimated his arms, cautiously raising them.

He had to mobilize all his willpower but somehow he managed to get to his feet, at last. He turned to the hand that still gripped the sword and found he was unable to exercise control over the tightly shut fingers.

It took some effort but with the use of his other hand, Henry opened the rigidly closed fist with force. When he finally managed to bend his own fingers until they released the blade, it hit the floor with a loud clanking sound.

The exiled prince jumped in fear, but instead of a shriek, he was only able to voice a hoarse cough. His paranoia someone might hear and seek him out grew, and he knew the sole thing that could somewhat alleviate the fear was light.

Henry quickly snapped the fingers of his left hand and, after locating it, he picked out the torch he had brought from his backpack. It took him a few minutes to fill and light it with his trembling fingers, but the moment the cave was illuminated again, a wave of relief immediately hit him. Then his gaze met the pitch-black exit and it vanished instantly. Leaving this cave, this safe zone, was as scary as ever.

But he would have to do it. Eventually.

Henry procrastinated for as long as he could – he stretched to get life back into his stiff limbs, went around gathering his now dry belongings, organized them, packed them away, then sat down and ate another piece of fruit and drank the rest of his water. For the first time since the panic attack he felt no imminent fear either and he found himself relishing the sensation like it was special, and not what was supposed to be normality.

When he then ran out of tasks, Henry took a deep breath, daring to peak at the exit. This will be so much less scary once I’m out, he thought, shouldering his backpack with shaking hands. He held his torch out like a weapon and carefully inched forward, into the tunnel.

It turned out surprisingly short, Henry thought he remembered walking for at least a minute last time, but now the familiar glow of the waterway came into view after a single turn. As soon as he spotted light, the exiled prince began running, as fast as his stiff legs carried him, out of the darkness and onto the beach, taking deep breaths as if inhaling the air out here would cure him of the fear that still gripped his heart.

He stared out at the vast, glowing sea, relishing the relief the fresh breeze in his hair and the smells and lights of the outside world brought with itself. The sight soothed his writhing insides like a calming blanket and Henry, at last, dropped to his knees where he stood. The torch escaped his grip and hit the sandy ground.

Henry had no idea how long he had kneeled on the beach, so close to the water he could touch it, would he stretch his hand out. All he knew was his cheeks were wet from tears when he rose again.

He had done it, he thought, wiping his face on his sleeve. He had overcome the hardest part. And the only one who had been holding him back had been he himself.

For the first time since the leap into the waterway, Henry could think rationally again. And even though his irrational fear was gone, his common sense now recognized the real and honestly terrifying situation he truly found himself in.

He was on this unknown island, alone, with nothing to eat and no means to get back to the mainland. It loomed as a shadowy cliff in the distance. And even if he would decide to swim back again, what in the world would he do then? Look for Thanatos?

Henry knew that would be a hopeless venture, for where should he start? The spinners would have surely carried the flier miles away by now, to an unknown destination, where an unknown fate awaited – or had already met him.

And if he didn’t find Thanatos again... what would Henry himself do?

What – no! The exiled prince shook his head and pressed his lips together. What would he do? He’d see what he would do!

It was only now that he reminded himself of how he wasn’t the helpless kid who had never set foot outside his comfort zone, he had been after the fall, anymore. Not even remotely. Reality check, Henry – what of Teslas and their lessons? Why was he even panicking?

He had the means to defend himself and the equipment and skills to get nearly anything he might find himself needing.

He... didn’t need Thanatos to survive anymore.

Henry allowed the realization to sink in and a wave of sudden confidence engulfed him. Yes, that was how it was now – he didn’t NEED the flier anymore. He had worked hard towards this very moment, hadn’t he? To learn what he needed to survive on his own. More than half the pages in his notebook were taken up with survival-related notes and sketches and he had tried all of them with the black nibbler at least once during their lessons.

And when the moment comes you hide your cowardly ass in a cave, like a loser, he scolded himself and wanted to sink into the floor from shame. At least nobody had seen him, back in there.

Henry straightened out his back and raised his chin. No more pointless panic or overthinking. He would get off this stupid island, and he would survive – all on his own, just as he had been meaning to.

The exiled prince repeated the words in his head to assure himself of their truth. He would be alright. But with all his theory, Henry knew dry runs could never compare to reality.

Regardless, he refused to let that dim his confidence. He was as prepared as he’d ever be. Now all he lacked was experience, and the only way to gain experience was the hard way.

Henry registered the numb anxiety that had formed a knot in his stomach – not prominent enough to pose a problem, yet still there, in the back of his head, and realized he was back to how it had been before exile. This was status quo.

He loathed the fact that he still didn’t feel safer on his own than he had before, even though that was what he had worked so hard for. What else would he need to do? What else could he even do?

Henry gritted his teeth. He had suppressed the emotion the last – what was it now, four, five months? But in truth, he had despised every second in which he had fully known he had been dependent on someone else. He had jumped over his own shadow asking Teslas to teach him for the sake of gaining independence, yet it had not gotten him anywhere, at least emotionally.

He had been dependent on Thanatos before, for the sake of survival, and apparently, he was still dependent on him, only for the sake of feeling safe now – or was he?

Dwelling on those somber thoughts Henry slowly started making his way along the coastline. He decided it would be for the best to do a circumvention of the island, to get an idea of how extensive it was, and what kind of structures it had.

The exiled prince soon packed away the torch as the light from the waterway sufficed to not accidentally wander off track. It was not bright enough to read, fight, or do anything along the lines, but Henry thought he wouldn’t be doing any of that any time soon.

Yes, but if a monster comes out to attack me now, I won’t be able to fight it, or even have enough time to light my sword, he thought. He hadn’t given Teslas’ last words from when they had said goodbye much thought, but having a quicker way to dispense the ignifer on the sword suddenly appeared incredibly tempting.

Henry stopped, pondering whether he should preemptively apply it and use his sword as a light source, but then decided against it. His ignifer supply was extremely limited and how big, honestly, were the chances of getting attacked now?

This time, his common sense won over his fear and Henry proceeded in the sparing light from the water, knowing fully well it would be too late to light his sword if he should indeed be attacked now.

But there was nothing he could do about that.

Henry had already made it to the other side of the island, which turned out smaller than anticipated, when it happened.

The exiled prince heard the scream before he saw the source. He barely registered what it was and only in the last second, he managed to let himself fall to the ground to escape the bared claws it swung at him.

“Argh... a human?! Here? And all alone? How very welcomed, I could use a snack!”, he registered a growling voice from somewhere on his left.

His mindless panic instantly returned and Henry barely scrambled up from where he had fallen – what in the world was a rat doing here?

But it left him with no time to think. A second strike, this time from behind, catapulted him at least ten feet forward and he landed harshly on his stomach. That couldn’t have been the same attacker, he thought, and indeed, when Henry turned he spotted the silhouettes of not one but two rats zooming in on him.

“Just what I was thinking”, the second snarled now. “It is but a pup, it won’t put up much of a fight!” In the last second, he leaped to his feet and rolled off to dodge their claws, drawing his sword in the same moment.

Had I only applied the ignifer earlier, he cursed while slicing in the approximate direction of the attackers at random. Not only could he barely see anything, but he would also have to take them both out – on his own.

Henry had never even fought a single rat without help and his fear rose to clog his throat as the realization sunk in - now it was either kill both or die.

The exiled prince desperately attempted to make the shapes of his attackers out and almost ran into the wall of stone that bordered the beach. The distant laugh of the rats rang in his ears – “He thinks he can escape, Hassell, can you believe that? Come out, human, come out – and we promise we’ll make it quick – maybe!”

Henry knew it was a bad idea to run, that they were much faster than he, but his flight instinct kicked in and he did it anyway. He kept his hand on the wall as to not lose it and stumbled forward into the darkness, essentially at random.

The laughter in his back swelled. “Aww... he thinks he can run from us – isn’t that cute?” – “How very cute indeed – who should get the honor of slicing his little throat, you or me?” Henry tried to ignore the mocking, all he focused on was running, as fast as he could.

Moments later, he shrieked in surprise as the wall gave way and he made out a narrow crack, barely wide enough to squeeze through.

Henry didn’t give it much thought, he dove in.

It was harder with the backpack, but he managed to disappear in the niche at the last second. Behind him, the claws of the rats hit the stone with an unnerving scraping sound. Their screeches, as they realized the crevice was too tight for them to follow, nearly deafened Henry.

“You know you can’t stay in there forever, pup!”, one of them cried while working the rock with his claws. “We will get you eventually!”

“Get you! Get you!” Their voices echoed from the walls, distorting them until the exiled prince was barely able to make out words.

He knew they would be right, they would have most certainly gotten him – were he anyone else. But Henry, being the one human with a substance that allowed him to light his sword on fire, triumphed.

Quickly, he sat down his backpack, as far away from the claws of the rats as the tiny cave permitted, and pulled out the ignifer. Within less than a minute his sword was ready and he was about to ignite it when he realized he had another problem.

The rats blocked the crack he had come in through, and thereby the sole exit, with their bodies. They were constantly pushing each other out of the way to peek inside and reach in with bared talons.

He pressed his back against the wall and thought he’d need a distraction to even make it out of here. For a moment he was stumped, but then something came to mind, something he’d been meaning to test for a while. He had just not wanted to waste ignifer pointlessly.

Well, now it would have a point.

Without further ado, Henry picked up a stone fit for his slingshot and covered it in ignifer. Then he lit it up. It burned much worse than the sword, as the flammable substance was made for smooth surfaces, but it burned at all, which was what he had hoped.

“Hey, you fat fleabags out there!”, Henry called over the rats’ own screams and twirled the sling with the burning stone, “take this for “he won’t put up much of a fight”!”

The rats were startled and surprised at how this kid dared to insult them, which Henry used. He shot the stone through the crack in the wall, directly in between the two. They cried of shock and anger and darted back – that’s when Henry ignited his sword.

The rats were left with no time to process what was going on when the exiled prince leaped out into the open, flaming sword raised high above his head. He saw Thanatos before his inner eye, when he had joined them to fight the cutters, and imitated his signature battle cry.

The rats were so confused their “easy snack” now swung a burning sword at them they began reeling around sporadically, leaving them vulnerable.

Henry hesitated not for a second. He slit the throat of the one he believed was called Hassell instantly and the rat went down with a high-pitched screech.

The death of his companion brought the other rat to his senses. He voiced a terrifying scream and leaped in Henry’s direction, but instinctively drew back when the exiled prince swung the burning sword at him.

“He wields fire!”, Henry made out among the confused cries of the second rat and grinned. “Yes, I wield fire”, he raised the blade theatrically, “and I’d ask you to warn your fellow fleabag-friends, but sadly you won’t get the chance.”

The rat was still so confused and visibly struggling to come up with a strategy to defend against Henry’s unusual weapon, the exiled prince managed to thrust it into his neck moments later. He, too, voiced a high-pitched scream from the fire, that ended in a gurgling noise when he choked on his own blood. Moments later he collapsed to Henry’s feet – dead.

The exiled prince stood over the two bodies, burning sword still in hand, panting from the fight, when his mind processed he had just taken out two grown rats on his own

A wave of fresh confidence and pride hit him and he found himself grinning ear-to-ear, finally breaking into hysteric laughter. Henry only seized laughing when his mind had caught up to the point where he began wondering where they had come from – and if there were more around.

He quickly scanned his surroundings and decided they couldn’t have lived here, or else there would be dozens more attacking him this very moment. But in that case, where had they come from? What did they want? And most importantly – would more follow?

Henry was so absorbed in his thoughts he didn’t notice the numerous shadows slowly assembling around him. They crawled out of every crevice and from behind every rock until they surrounded him.

When he began to feel he was being watched and raised his head, Henry froze in surprise –

Around him and the bodies of the rats now cowered, keeping a safe distance at all times, more than a dozen crawlers. They were all sitting motionlessly, staring at him, as if too intimidated to approach until a single individual left the crowd and raised its voice – “Save us, the Wielder of Light will, save us?”


	18. Hunt

The only remaining sound was the quiet crackling of the torch Henry had lit, instead of his sword, and stuck into the sand, maybe ten feet away from the corpses.

Around five minutes had passed and he had soon sat down next to it, surrounded by the crawlers who had appeared after he had defeated the rats. He had tried his hardest, yet all he had gotten out of them so far was that they lived here, that the rats were threatening them – and that they, for some reason, expected HIM to save them.

Embarrassed beyond belief, he had further understood the shadows he’d been scared of earlier had been these very same crawlers, as there was nobody else on the island, or so they claimed. Well, at least nobody had been there to see him, and Henry had quickly decided to bury that whole night in the furthest depths of his memory, to never bring up again. Should anyone ever find out he’d had a panic attack over some crawlers he’d be done in. Reputation-wise, at least.

“Okay, okay, from the beginning –” Henry sighed, not bothering much to conceal his frustration.

Yes, he appreciated how the colony from the citadel had helped him fight the cutters, but talking to crawlers was still an annoyance, with how obtuse they were.

“What exactly were the rats over there doing here?” He gestured in the direction of the corpses, “And in what way are they still threatening you? With how they are, you know, DEAD now?”

“Gnawers are more than the dead ones, they are. They want to come to seize this island, they want”, the one who appeared to be their leader said, “We live here in peace, now gnawers want to take the island, they want.”

Henry furrowed his brows, displeased to have his suspicion confirmed. There were more. And they’d probably come looking for their friends soon.

“So, there are MORE gnawers, like a group those two belonged to? And they attempt to... CONQUER this island?” He tilted his head in disbelief, “Why now all of a sudden? And, like, in general – WHY? What would the gnawers even want with this pile of dirt?”

The crawler twitched his antennas. “Yes conquer the island, conquer it. Now, because Goldfang told them, now. Goldfang united the gnawers in region, united. Has taken the light from many, she has, now she wants ours too, she wants.”

“Goldfang?” Henry searched his memory and recalled hearing the name somewhere, yet he didn’t know when or in what context. “You mean this Goldfang is the one who leads the attack on the island?”

The more he thought about it, the more surprising he found it he’d heard of her before. After King Gorger’s death, the gnawers didn’t have a uniform, single leader anymore, and most of them lived in compact groups, following whoever had enough guts and charisma to lead – so Thanatos and he had found out during their time in the Dead Land. It had been the main reason for the flier’s paranoia, he had feared one of those groups may attempt to settle down in a portion of previously uninhabited Dead Land.

But Goldfang’s name seemed familiar to Henry from before exile. He wondered whether she had been someone important, even prior to Gorger’s death, but soon shrugged it off, deciding it mattered little. Whoever she had been then was irrelevant. All that mattered now was how she was the local leader of the rats, and for whatever reason, had her eyes set on this island. Henry suspected not even the crawlers knew why.

Maybe she wanted it for political influence or demonstration of power, maybe she thought it would make a nice and easy to defend base camp – or maybe she just wanted it for fun. Who could ever strive to understand the mind of a gnawer?

The exiled prince tore his eyes away from the flame and stared at the two corpses. “And those two... were they some sort of scouts then?”

“That is most likely them, most likely.”

Oh great, he nervously dug his hand into the sand. Now that this patrol wouldn’t return to Goldfang, she would surely send another one, to find out what had happened, and that probably soon. He had to get a move on.

“Oh well, that’s bad news for you guys, I guess.” Henry stood up, dusting the sand off his coat. “But in that case, I think I’ll get going and out of here now. Before more of them show up, and all.”

He still had no idea how exactly he’d get off the island, but he’d... think of something. All in due time. If worst came to worst, he’d just have to swim again. It was miles better than to stay and get in the way of an imminent rat invasion.

The crawlers around him started murmuring quietly, as Henry thought, surprised. He’d already taken a step towards where he’d dropped his backpack when the one who had spoken earlier raised his voice again – “Will not help us, Wielder of Light, will not help us?”

Henry froze in his tracks. “Ehh... why would I?”

More murmur. “You are Wielder of Light, are you not? You saved citadel from cutters, did you not?”

The exiled prince rolled his eyes and groaned, but finally nodded. “Sure, if that’s what you want to call me... that’s what the other colony called me.” He thought back to what Cevian had said – _You’ll forever be their savior now, whether you like it or not._ He hadn’t expected she had meant it this literally. Or, more specifically, he had hoped.

“Yeah, sure, I did save your friends over there”, he admitted, defiantly gazing at the assembly around him, “But just because I saved you ONCE and you guys gave me a fancy name for it, that doesn’t mean I’m going to be your eternal savior now!”

The crawlers exchanged glances. Henry bit his lip and fumbled with the handle of Mys at his hip. How had word of his victory at the citadel even traveled so fast? These crawlers lived on a remote island, how were they so well-informed?

“Look”, he spoke again, “even if I WANTED to, what in the world could I even do against a full-fledged gnawer-invasion... by myself? I’m decent with a sword, but I’m not a miracle-worker.”

The crawlers seemed to understand he wasn’t going to do them a favor out of the goodness of his heart, so they whispered to each other in their own language before turning to him again. “If you help us, we give you something back, we give you.”

Henry, who had been standing around, tapping his foot in agitation, immediately listened up. “Give? As in, you’ll pay me? In what?” All worries regarding what he was even supposed to do and how became secondary at the mention of a reward.

The crawlers hesitated. “You are human, you are. We trade much with humans. We can give you of that, we can.”

“And what would that be?” Henry attempted to remember what they had always given the crawlers. Grain baskets, and... “We get grain and fuel and medicine, we get. For trading and for keeping.”

Grain. Fuel. Medicine. Henry stared at the crawler, forgetting to even tap his foot, and realized his decision was made. All of that he needed desperately, especially medicine. Up until now, it hadn’t even crossed his mind it would maybe be a good idea to get some from somewhere. But now that it was on the table, he knew for certain what they offered was worth taking on a rat-invasion force – and then some.

The exiled prince glanced over the crawler assembly and sighed. It seemed like he would once again be risking his life for them. Despite his best hopes, it was actually becoming a thing now.

A blanket of thick mist had spread over the still surface of the waterway, so much so Henry had not been able to make out the coastline of the mainland from the beach anymore. Some of it even seeped into his cave, uncomfortably dampening his clothes and hair. The air was so humid he thought were he to put his pot up somewhere on the beach, it would have filled with water by the time he’d go to bed.

The exiled prince turned his gaze to the slowly burning flame of the little fire he had lit to cook his meal. Two days had passed since he’d agreed to help the crawlers and in those two days, he had certainly not sat idle.

His first order of business had been to seek out a better cave to leave his things at, as he’d promised himself he’d never return to the one where he’d spent his first night. That turned out less of a problem than he had feared, as he’d quickly discovered a fairly well-hidden and spacious cave, right next to the crevice where he had hidden from the rats.

It was a much better camp than the other one. Not only was the entrance hidden from sight by a ledge and fairly narrow – too narrow for a rat to fit through – it also had a hole in the ceiling that served as a flue and several niches to sleep in.

And slept he had, at last. It had taken him some time to find the courage to close his eyes, even if only for a few hours. But his body had needed rest, desperately, and he had grown tired of fighting the impulse.

Besides, for what he was going up against, he’d need to be in top shape, mentally and physically. And what he was going up against, indeed. He still sometimes heard the nagging voice of Thanatos, calling him crazy to even agree to this, but Henry knew his mind was made up.

After some toing and froing, he had gotten out of the crawlers that the key to stopping the invasion was to kill Goldfang. She was apparently the sole force driving the rats in a uniform direction, were she to die, their group would fall apart.

That made the mission he saw himself facing easier – but not much. He was not attempting to stop the whole armada of rats, instead, he was taking out a singular target, but that target would most likely be well-protected.

Henry snorted and shook his head. That’s how far it had come, he was now taking requests to kill for monetary rewards. But the more thought he gave it, the more he found taking mercenary jobs was perhaps not such a bad way to earn a living in the Dead Land. And he’d need a source of income – unless he’d decide to go back to the nibbler colony.

But no – he recalled his own resolve when he’d left, he had wanted a damn adventure, right? Well, why was he complaining then, now that life had indeed tossed him face-forward into one? Taking out a rat leader for a reward, THAT was an adventure.

And who knew, maybe a career as a mercenary was indeed not such a bad idea either. He’d see how this first job would go, and then decide if it was for him.

But as great as his enthusiasm had been, he’d gotten caught up in only the first step the last two days – to successfully find a way off the island that didn’t require swimming. At first, he had contemplated whether he could even afford to be so picky, but soon decided he could, for the simple reason he’d most likely return to this island in the future – if only to collect his reward. And he couldn’t just keep swimming every time.

Henry tore his eyes from the fire and his gaze met the wall beside him. Two lines he’d carved into the wall, two lines for two days. Two more days he’d survived.

Rising to his feet, he, at last, gave into the paranoia and went to check if anything had happened, or any rat patrols had arrived while he hadn’t been looking, but everything remained peaceful. So peaceful Henry thought he couldn’t afford to trust it.

There it was, lying on the beach, some ten feet from the bodies of the rats, if they could even be called bodies anymore – the cumulation of all his work over the last two days, and his means to get off the island.

It had taken Henry some willpower to properly loot the corpses, but in the end, he’d had little choice. No other materials were available and he knew he’d be foolish to refuse out of the mere reason he was grossed out.

Being elbow-deep in the guts of a formerly living creature had been a new experience – one that he had by no means enjoyed, and that, at the same time, had made him considerably more resistant to anything of the sort. Gut was gut, flesh was flesh, whether it was still attached to the body it belonged to or not.

However, he knew for certain without Mys, he would have never been able to get to the point he was now. How many times he had praised both Teslas for making it and himself for cutting it off, in what little time had passed, he did not remember. All he knew was that he had grown incredibly fond of it, over the last couple days, so much so he doubted he would ever be able to live without it anymore.

The fact it had three blades instead of two allowed for far more variety in usage. The metal-coated side-blades were naturally harder, they were for heavy cutting, carving, and presumably fighting, even though he hadn’t done that yet. The middle blade made of bone, on the other hand, allowed for precision when handling more fragile materials.

Henry recalled his own words to Teslas, how he was certain it would serve him well – and well it had served him indeed. What had formerly been rats had now been reduced to unrecognizable piles of flesh he had left on the side, where he didn’t have to look at them too much.

The bones had served as a frame, the skin he had managed to successfully turn to leather, like Teslas had taught him. He had stretched it over the frame and tied everything with the rope he had brought as well as some tendons he’d taken from the rats.

Now he proudly stood in front of the little boat that lied on the beach, ready to be mounted and take off. He had tested it earlier and it worked like a charm, though it was very modest in size. Then again, that was probably for the best. The smaller he was, the harder he’d get detected.

Henry stood on the beach for a while, staring out to the sea, going over what he still needed to do before departing. Watching the mist carefully for any traces of rats or other dangers, it suddenly occurred to him he should, if possible, use the mist to his advantage. Would he leave now, he could use it to hide.

That was it then, he took a deep breath, his call to leave. He’d eat, finish the paddle he was still working on, and then it was go-time.

When his meal was ready, Henry sat down outside on the beach to eat and tie together the parts of his paddle. Some of the largest bones from both rats as the handle as well as one of their skulls, that he had split in half, as the tip.

He gnawed at the stringy meat and attempted not to think too hard about what he was eating. After some hesitation, he’d gotten himself to try the rat meat – for lack of other available sustenance. He wasn’t going to use it for anything else anyway, and it was so much easier than trying to catch fish without equipment. The taste needed getting used to, but it wasn’t really any worse than raw fish, especially when grilled.

After he’d finished his meal, he began packing away his cooking utensils and shouldered the paddle. There was nothing left for him to do here, he was as ready as he would ever be.

Today is as good a day as any to die, he told himself, recalling the rules he’d made all the way back after establishing his alliance with Thanatos. At the nibbler colony he’d felt so safe he hadn’t needed them, but now he found it appropriate to bring them back.

Should he die today, he’d die fighting, not hiding like a coward, at least. That was, at this point, the only requirement he had for death.

“Hey, I’ll be leaving soon. Like, now!”, he called to one of the crawlers who’d had their gazes on him the entire time, trying to hide behind a rock. A couple of them had always been there, over the last few days, watching him work, and while Henry didn’t really understand why they always attempted to be out of sight, he cared too little to ask. As long as they didn’t watch him while he slept or bathed they could do whatever they wanted.

The exiled prince began gathering his things, deciding to leave most of his fabric as well as the pot, which was the heaviest item he had, behind. He’d live of raw fish for the time being.

He decided to take the rest of his things, even the notebooks. Mainly because they weren’t heavy and way too precious to leave behind. They would be safe in his waterproof container.

When he had everything he needed, Henry tightened his sword belt, shouldered the backpack, and stepped out of the cave. He remained in front of the entrance for a moment when his gaze landed on the rat corpses. There was one last thing he’d need to do before embarking on this hunt, something he didn’t necessarily want to do, but – he was going hunting for a rat. He needed to take precautions he wouldn’t be smelled out seconds after he’d enter their land.

Henry slowly approached the corpses and sat his backpack down, gazing at the second water bag he had made from the spare leather. He’d originally wanted it to store more water, but he thought he’d probably end up leaving it here because now it was entirely filled with rat blood.

_It’s one of the best ways to mask one’s scent when traveling in the gnawers’ land._ He heard Thanatos’ voice in his head – that had been the first thing the flier had ever taught him, and it had been the hard way.

Henry sighed, thinking he should just get it over with, and tied one of the spare cloths tightly around his eyes and mouth – no reason to expose those to the blood if he didn’t have to. Then he took up the bag.

After a last moment of hesitation he raised it, to spill its contents over his own head. A wave of disgust engulfed him, together with the liquid, and the overwhelming reek of blood. It instantly drenched his clothes and Henry gagged, wishing he wouldn’t have done this right after eating.

As it dripped from the tips of his hair he instinctively shook his head, spraying the liquid around and dotting the surrounding rocks with little specks of red.

Henry felt the sensation taking him back to his very first night as an outcast, the horrors he had faced at the bottom of the cliff. He remembered having this same idea back then but lacking the guts to do it. Instead, Thanatos had pushed him into the blood that day.

Well, this time, he didn’t need him to do it. As disgusting as the matter was, pride at how far he’d come welled up in him. It was replaced by irritation as soon as he removed the cloth that had covered his face, as some of the blood entered his eyes immediately. Angrily, he wiped it away and shook his head again to end the insistent dripping of his hair. Not that it helped much.

Around ten minutes later everything had dried and his attire, as well as his hair and body, were covered in the now crusty, brown substance. Henry hated having it on him, but the important part was, that now all he stank off was corpse, not human.

_Well, look at you, finally doing something smart. Are we perhaps picking up on things after all?_ Thanatos’ voice had become a constant companion, commenting on everything he had done and thought, over the last two days. And now it was even complimenting him.

But it wasn’t like it was wrong. Henry smiled. He was picking up things indeed. Especially guts. Literally and figuratively.

As a final act of goodbye, the exiled prince tossed what had remained of the rats into the water. He didn’t care much for their friends finding them like this, covered in his scent.

After that was over and dealt with, he sighed, took up his backpack again, shouldered the paddle, and kicked the boat into the water, shooting a last glance back at the mountain and the entrance to his cave. “I’ll be back in a couple of days – probably!”, he screamed in the direction of the crawlers who had now come out of hiding. He thought their incessant antenna-wiggling was supposed to be them waving him goodbye. “And remember, let the second patrol pass when it comes! I need them!”

With that, he jumped into the boat and propelled himself forward. The last glimpse Henry caught of the island was at the mountain, peek invisible in the clouds of fog that had formed around it. Then he faced forward and rowed out towards the mainland – to hunt.

Henry’s plan was simple – to find Goldfang’s camp, he would hole up somewhere on the mainland, close to the shore, watching for rats entering or leaving the island. He expected the second patrol to arrive shortly, enough time had passed and Goldfang would surely want to be informed of what had happened to Hassel and his friend, of that Henry was convinced.

When they would then come, the exiled prince would wait for them to leave again and follow them back home.

He carefully steered his little boat to a shallower, canyon-like part of the coast. It was the only part that wasn’t steep cliff, so he gambled on the rats to come from there.

When Henry had rowed his way through the canyon to a spot where he could land, he jumped out, dragged the boat out of the water, and hid it in a narrow crevice in the rock.

The rats made him wait a few hours only. He had set up his hideout, not far from where he’d left the boat, and went over the bit of a plan he had. He knew that, for the most part, he would have to improvise when it came to the killing itself, but had established a couple preferences. Like how he’d preferably face Goldfang alone, and if he wouldn’t get to use his slingshot to snipe her, he would certainly prep his blade with the ignifer. Henry decided, if anything, he’d rather not have a repeat of the showdown on the island.

“Oh no, the crawlers most certainly didn’t make them disappear like that. They’re CRAWLERS.” Henry listened up when he finally made out voices, approaching from somewhere further down the canyon.

“And besides, the island reeked of human. They were there, and so was a human, I’m telling you! Goldfang needs to hear of this. It might mess with her plans if the humans have their eyes on the island too.”

Henry stiffened up, retreating deeper into the crevice he was hiding in. He had not considered the gnawers would smell him on the island, regardless whether he discarded the corpses.

But his plan to mask his scent seemed to work as they continued their mindless chatter, passing directly under where he’d hidden out soon and disappearing into a tunnel opening further up the canyon. So Henry decided to just proceed with his plan.

The entire, hour-long trip to their camp the two scouts continued arguing whether Goldfang needed to hear of the human presence on the island or not and whether it would even pose a problem for them.

Henry soon thought the two would make nice friends for the shiners, the way they argued, and had to combat a laughing fit for five minutes straight. It took him so long to calm down he ended up almost losing them, but luckily they weren’t making any effort to remain silent, in contrast to him.

The extendable soles of fur Henry had built into his new boots served him excellently during this pursuit. He suspected he would have certainly been heard, hadn’t it been for the extra silencing of his steps.

The exiled prince followed the scouts for maybe an hour until they arrived at a steep canyon, passing the entrance by making themselves known to two guards.

Apparently, the rats around Goldfang had their base in that same structure, its walls were steep and the space between limited, but Henry suspected there were many caves to hide and live in the walls.

There was no way for him to ever get in through the main gate, so he decided to climb the wall and infiltrate the canyon from above. There had to be enough hiding spots up there.

The ascent itself proved difficult as Henry had no light source and no way to secure himself from falling on the steep wall, but eventually, he’d reached sufficient height to ensure there was enough distance between him and the ground, and the blood would provide enough masking of his scent.

After a quick lunch break, consisting of leftover rat meat, he began climbing horizontally until he found a spot directly above the main hub of the camp. He got as comfortable as he could, and started actively watching the events below. His vision was limited due to the lack of proper light, but he could at least hear. It would need to suffice for determining his target.

After half a day of tedious scouting, he was finally graced with luck – a brazier-like light source was ignited below, and for the first time, Henry could properly see.

From then on, it became much easier to follow the events in the camp, and he caught his first glimpse at who he soon became certain was his target. She was unusually tall for a female, her fur was of a somewhat dirty-gold, and a chunk of her ear was missing. But most importantly, she strutted around with her head high, giving orders like a leader.

Unfortunately, Henry had no way of influencing the events below. He saw no way to lure her out or strike her from his current position. His sling wasn’t powerful enough to kill a rat, and knocking her out wouldn’t do him any good. He’d just have to wait for her to come out on her own if he ever wanted to get her alone.

So, he waited – and Henry hated waiting.

The exiled prince was cowering on the maybe seven or eight foot tall ledge, barely daring to breathe, and holding his sling in position.

He was waiting.

Two days had passed since he’d first arrived at the rat camp. Two days of tedious lurking, scouting, and sitting around on his hide, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And that moment was now.

He had overheard many conversations between Goldfang’s followers over the last days, and learned much about their plans, like how they indeed wanted to make the island their new base. They had even claimed she apparently planned to conquer more territory afterward, to eventually gain a great enough force of supporters to crown herself queen.

And he had also found out why he’d heard her name before.

_Gorger has three generals_, the stern voice of Solovet sounded in his head. _Not long ago it were four, and originally five. You will do well in remembering the names of the current ones, at least._

Henry recalled that lesson vividly, it had interested him greatly as to why Gorger had lost two of his generals, but Solovet had never elaborated on that. Instead, she had proceeded with the basics –

_Each is assigned supervisory and administrative tasks across his lands. For the active three, we have Snare, Bonebreak, and Goldfang. It is true that, in times when all five were active, those three were considered the less prestigious ones. The other two, both lost to the king for different reasons, once were his left and right hand._

Henry remembered not the names of the two inactive ones, but he certainly recalled her mentioning Goldfang. Bonebreak’s name seemed to ring a bell too, now that he had it fresh in mind – but he, for the life of him, could not remember where he had heard it, after this lesson.

The most important piece of information to draw from that, however, was, that he was going up against no less than a former general of Gorgers.

It should scare him, he thought, should cause him to have second thoughts – but curiously enough, it didn’t. All it did was fire up his determination even more. If he defeated her now, singlehandedly even, he would have something to be proud of again, and Henry thought that was as good a motivator as any.

It had thereby become apparent why Goldfang was the undisputed leader, and why she could so openly pronounce to have a claim to the throne. “Once our species will be uniform again, then we will have regained our old strength – and it will be under my lead. In your face, Longclaw!”, she had called during one of her frequent speeches – and whoever Longclaw was, her followers had cheered excessively.

But Henry wasn’t here to daydream – he was here to take her out. And that’s what he would do. Not long ago he had seen Goldfang lead a total of three other rats away from the camp, to meet some sort of patrol closeby. From what he’d gathered, they had been supposed to find out how much interest the humans indeed had in the island.

Henry had followed them as well as he could until he had scouted out a river close to where they had disappeared into a tunnel and spotted this very ledge, directly above. It was perfect for the plan he had come up with in so many ways – the river provided light for him to aim, and served as a well-enough hideout.

He once more checked if he had readied enough stones, then he took a deep breath and slowly tossed a mid-sized boulder down to the floor. It made a distinct, unmissable sound as it hit, and he immediately heard the rats must have noticed it.

Henry thought they were debating who should check it out and he urgently hoped Goldfang would send only one of her henchmen. But when he finally saw movement in the tunnel, it was two. Just his luck.

“Hey – I am sure the sound came from here!” As he had hoped, they didn’t remember to look up. Nobody ever did.

Henry silently counted to three, steadied his hand, and shot. The gnawer he had hit, dropped at once, and before the other had the chance to react, the exiled prince had put him out of action with a second stone.

He jumped down as silently as his fur-covered feet permitted and drew Mys to finish them off. Then he dragged the bodies to the river and tossed them in. Maybe their friends would find them, maybe not. In any case, they would hardly be able to trace them back to him.

Less than a minute later Henry was up on the ledge again, dropping the next boulder.

The last remaining henchman came much faster, and while he was still looking for his missing friends, Henry eliminated him the same way as he had them. But as fool-proof as he had deemed his plan – he had underestimated Goldfang’s instincts.

In the very moment the exiled prince pushed the last body into the river, he heard growling in his back. He dropped the rat that was instantly carried away by the current and jolted around, to barely dodge a paw with razor-sharp talons. It made an unnerving scraping sound on the stone as it missed. “Argh... I had a feeling this was a trap – but by a human?”

Her voice was but an angry hiss as she glared at him from her position at the wall. “Nice trick, to make yourself stink like a corpse, but don’t make the mistake to believe I am as easily fooled as my nose!”

Henry had to suppress the uprising panic when he gazed at the six-foot-tall rat with the bared teeth in front of him. He knew it was far too late to ignite his sword or use the sling – how was this exactly the situation he had wanted to avoid?

I should have applied the ignifer before I killed the henchmen, flashed in his mind, and he cursed his own short-sightedness. Then again, it wasn’t like he had ever assassinated a rat leader. He’d just have to learn from his mistake, he thought, fervently trying to prevent his hand from shaking. Given he’d survive this encounter, of course.

Now, and of that he became almost too aware in that moment – he would have to fight her – by himself – and without any of his new aids.

Henry swallowed, instinctively taking a step back, nearly tripping and falling into the river. He barely caught himself and cursed, attempting to keep his eyes on Goldfang at all times who now let out a short laugh.

How was he ever winning this? As far as he knew, few humans had ever faced a rat in one-on-one combat, and even fewer had survived. They usually worked in teams, or at the very least, had their fliers with them. No human usually even went out to the Dead Land alone.

Except for him, of course.

Goldfang, apparently, wasn’t in any hurry to fight. She gave up the attack position and sat on her hinds, eyeing him, somewhat curiously. “So, what is a human pup even doing here, all on his own? And most importantly, why is he killing my followers?”

The exiled prince knew rats could smell fear, so he wouldn’t give her anything to smell. Instead of dwelling on how easily she could kill him, he took some time to inspect her – and had to admit, she was an impressive sight.

Her fur was neat and tidy, especially for a rat, and countless scars covered every inch of her body, from most likely equally as countless battles. The most intriguing discovery he made, however, was the golden ring she had through the good part of her torn ear.

He had never seen a rat with an earring and instinctively raised his hand to the two through his left ear, wondering how she had acquired hers. Goldfang noticed his gaze at her ear and gave something like a laugh, shifting her weight away from the wall.

Everything about her pose and expression emitted the aura of an experienced fighter, making standing by his decision to not be scared harder. How would he ever be able to survive an attack from this killing machine, let alone take her out – on his own?

Henry took a deep breath. He was terrified to the bone – but she didn’t have to know that. He stood up straight. “Nice earring you got there.” He aimed for a deliberately casual tone. “Never seen one on a rat before.”

She gave a smile. “Of course you haven’t. I once had two of them, like you, you know?” She eyed his ear with what Henry, to his surprise, recognized as envy. “They were something like my hallmark, along the lines of – see a rat with rings through her ear? That’s Goldfang, general of Gorger’s, beware!” She brushed the ear with the ring thoughtlessly, “Unfortunately, the other one was... let’s say, lost to me. As you can see.”

Henry nodded, still fumbling with his own earring, urgently thinking about how swiftly he could draw his sword, should she attack now.

“But you haven’t answered my question”, she kept the casual tone up, “Why are you so set on killing my followers?

One of them would not survive this encounter, so there was little reason for Henry to lie. “It’s not their heads I want. It’s yours.”

At that, she broke into hoarse laughter. “Oho, really? And why?” She tilted her head, “It was you, on that island, was it not? The human my patrol smelled.” For the first time, her eyes narrowed in something like intrigue, “You were who killed Hassel and Eyesharp, too.”

Henry nodded, and she shook her head. “Someone is eager to keep me from that island, isn’t he? But why? What’s it to you, boy?” She inspected him head to toe, “You’re not part of them anymore, are you? The human civilization. You smell of corpse, and waterway, and crawler. A hint of rat, too.” She paused, “You smell like an outcast.”

Henry took a deep breath and stood a little taller, inching his hand towards the hilt of his sword. “Yeah. So what?”

“So what?”, she echoed, “That’s what I asked – what’s it to you? What do you get out of killing me? Why would an outcast strive to undermine my attempt at reuniting our species? Does your hatred for us last beyond the banishment by your own?”

Her question caught Henry off-guard and he hesitated, staring at the narrow slits of her eyes. “No, it’s not personal.” He shifted his weight and shrugged, deliberately casual again. “I’ll be rewarded. Financially.”

She gave a short, piercingly loud laugh. “OH! So that’s it! Not bad, not bad – still wet behind his ears and already a mercenary. You didn’t even do a bad job with the three you killed, I have to admit that much.”

“Thanks. I’m a fast learner.” He continued his casual tone, while every inch of his body was tense, almost wishing she would just attack.

“Well then, I guess I won’t do the world a favor by killing you. Or maybe I will, depending on who hired you. It was not Longclaw, was it?” She waited not for Henry’s reply, “Oh, no, I doubt that. He is many things, but he would never sink so low as to hire a human assassin. It was probably those crawlers from that island, hence why you reek of them.” She shook her head, “I have no personal quarrel with them, I might even allow them to leave when I take the island. Depending on how much trouble they make.”

For a moment Henry contemplated if that was his way out. Were he to say something along the lines of – oh well, in that case, it was nice meeting you, I’ll bring them the good news I didn’t even have to kill you to save their lives – could he get himself out of this battle?

But in Goldfang’s eyes, he saw it was much too late for that. “Yet still – regardless of who sent you – you say I am the bad guy here, but you killed five of my people. They had done you no harm, they hadn’t even been the targets you were tasked to eliminate.” Her gaze was pitiful, “I knew them all personally, you know?” She averted her eyes yet Henry made not the mistake to think she had any intention to leave him alive.

“Right. As if any of you wouldn’t have done the same.” He refused to allow her faked friendliness to mess with his head.

“But none of us... HAVE done the same.”

Henry bit his lip, taking a firm stance. “Spare me!”, he nearly screamed, “Your pity is uncalled-for. I’m not here to chat!” Something about the way she had spoken now reminded him of Tonguetwist suddenly, and he was about through with rats like that.

Then again, in Tonguetwist’s presence, he had never felt threatened, while Goldfang, despite her friendly tone, put little effort in concealing this conversation would end in a fight eventually. At this point, he just wanted her to attack. All this waiting was straining his nerves, which was most likely her intent.

The golden rat laughed. “Of course. You know, you’re a brave one, and clearly competent. Smart too. It is such a shame we stand on opposite sides. Were you a rat, I would go out of my way to win you for my forces. In fact”, her gaze drifted from his face to a spot somewhere behind him, “The way you talk, so focused on the hard things in life, when all I want is to have a civilized chat – I can’t help but be reminded of someone, someone I used to know, a long time ago. What a shame”, she mumbled, fixating him again, “But oh well, you do what you have to do.”

Henry just about managed to ask himself what or who she had meant when she leaped at him. His hand jolted up and he drew his sword, barely in time to block her razor-sharp claws.

Henry had never even seen a human fight a rat on their own, and it was about as bad as he had thought it would be. He was an excellent swordsman by all means, yet he found himself entirely taken up with defending.

Either Goldfang was creeping around him, out of the range of his sword, looking for a weak spot, an opening in his defense, or she attacked, and when she did, he could barely think as fast as she struck.

Henry soon bled from multiple cuts, but to him, they all felt minor, not even worth mentioning, let alone give up over. He knew he’d have to tend to them soon, but in the heat of the battle, he barely felt them.

I have to stop defending all the time, he gritted his teeth and barely blocked another attack. I’ll never land a hit like this, let alone defeat her.

He banished all doubts as to whether he even had the skill to hope for something like victory and attempted to calm his reeling mind, to catch a moment to think.

Goldfang eventually ended her prowl around him and leaped forward again, claws bared for a deadly strike, and Henry instinctively swung his sword in a perfect figure-eight, as his brain recognized the attack pattern. The golden rat cried as his blade landed, visibly surprised he had managed to hit her, and stumbled into the opposing wall, granting him his desired breather.

Henry barely believed he had landed either, staring at his now bloodied sword, and suddenly found himself taken back to a different challenge, a challenge he had worked on beating for an entire month. A challenge that had taught him this very trick.

He saw the arena, back in Regalia – and the blood balls.

Henry remembered it so clearly as if it had been yesterday and not, what – a year ago, at this point? Stellovet had mocked him when Howard had hit more blood balls than he, that day. A most shameful moment, indeed. Yes, he hadn’t given it his all, for the lack of proper motivation, but the mockery had chipped his confidence regardless, and that much more than anyone, least of all Stellovet, could have ever anticipated.

He remembered her words – _I can’t believe Solovet claims you are the best warrior among us, she must have said that only in pity! _And he remembered his own response – _Is that what you think? Well, let me prove it then. Give me as much as a month, and I’ll hit not just more than your loser brother – I’ll hit ALL the blood balls. How’s that for a bet?_

She had not believed him, obviously, but Henry had taken his promise to heart. As soon as Solovet had learned of his announcement, she immediately had all his duties, even his school lessons, suspended, and granted him permission to use the arena and the blood ball cannons to his heart’s content. She had even instructed to search their archives for records from victors of this challenge and told Mareth to spend as much of his time as he possibly could to help Henry.

That next month he had been in the arena every day almost constantly, practicing. He even remembered sleeping there a couple nights, so exhausted from training he could not be bothered to return to his quarters.

He remembered days he’d practiced with Luxa and Ares, with Mareth, with Solovet herself – and nights he’d spent training alone, feeling physically unable to put down his blade before he had not achieved the day’s goal.

Mareth had done as Solovet had said and searched out any record he could find from anyone who had ever beaten it, going over them with Henry to strive and learn all possible known tricks and techniques. Solovet herself had overseen and checked on his progress regularly, Henry thought she had secretly been waiting for someone to make a serious attempt at the blood ball challenge for as long as she had been commander.

And by the end of the month his countless hours of work – the blood, sweat, and tears he had poured into this singular goal – had paid off. In front of the unbelieving eyes of Stellovet and the entire assembled, more or less royal, household, Henry had sliced open fifteen blood balls.

The figure-eight had been one of the tricks Mareth had discovered in an ancient record, and it had taken Henry quite a while to get the hang of it as it was fairly tricky and required a good understanding and grip on the physics of a sword, but he had learned it, just as he had them all.

And now that he was staring at the cowering Goldfang, readying herself for attack, another of them suddenly came to mind.

_The main problem is that you have one sword, and fifteen targets. They all fly at you simultaneously, so there is very little time to cover so much area with a single blade, _Mareth’s words echoed in his head. _That’s why this record here lists ways to make more time for yourself._

Henry’s gaze never left Goldfang. Like in slow motion, he saw her leap forward for another attack, and as he recalled the day he had sliced open the blood balls, he spotted his chance.

_Take out as many as you can on one side, then move and take the others out after. That way you gain valuable seconds._

This time, Henry did not wait for the golden rat. He leaped at her himself, sword raised, and struck as hard as he could – her left side. Goldfang gave a high-pitched, pained scream that nearly burst his eardrums, as it echoed from the walls, but Henry disregarded it. The muscle memory was still there, and, like with the blood balls, he twisted his body left in mid-air and swung his sword right – at her head.

This time it was the rat who dodged at the last second and Henry nearly lost balance and fell when his feet touched the ground because the impact he had expected had never come. Fully aware the battle was far from over he turned back to her, to check if he had wounded her badly, when she struck.

A long, sharp talon tore open his upper leg and now it was Henry’s turn to scream. He nearly dropped the sword, reaching to support himself on the wall, when she rammed into him with her entire body weight. The blow catapulted him backward and almost smashed his head into the wall.

Goldfang was above him in a heartbeat. Henry struggled to keep her at bay, holding his sword horizontally, barely managing to ram the tip into the neighboring wall for more support. Her expression was maniacal, she was baring her eight-inch razor-sharp teeth at him and hissed like a wild animal. Henry screamed in exertion, thinking he would crumble under her weight any second, then suddenly wondered why he hadn’t yet.

His gaze met the reason as he focused on her figure in the sparing light – her entire left arm was missing. It was but a useless stump, and Henry squeezed his eyes shut instinctively as the blood that was still pulsing from it hit his face.

He spat out what had landed in his mouth and barely managed to think he must’ve severed it when he’d attacked her. Under normal circumstances, Henry would certainly have felt pride, but with how he still had a screaming, bleeding rat on top of him it was hard to feel anything but disgust and despair.

I am a goner, he gritted his teeth. I’ll never be able to fight her off, pinned on the floor like this.

Even though Goldfang was not fighting with all her strength his arm was slowly but surely getting tired. His sword felt way too short and fragile for this, and he was overwhelmed with fear it might break, leaving nothing in between his face and her teeth. It did not help that, in the heat of the battle, it had ended up in his left hand, and he wouldn’t be able to keep their little tug of war up for long.

Henry wanted to raise his right hand to help but it was stuck underneath his upper body. He tried to free it when he suddenly felt an elongated handle pressing against it.

Mys! He kept it at the back of his hip, and his right hand now gripped the handle tightly. Goldfang didn’t notice anything, she was still blind with pain and rage, trying to overpower him with raw violence.

Henry slowly but surely opened the clasp that held the dagger in place and inched it out of the sheath. The next thing he registered was Mys – sticking out of Goldfang’s throat, with his own hand still gripping the handle.

Henry followed the shift in her expression like in slow-motion. First, disbelief. She eyed the dagger in her throat like she had no idea how it had gotten there. Then, anger. She tried to grab it, let go of Henry even, and staggered back, to pull it out, but it was too late.

At last, there was only fear. Her eyes fixated on Henry, sending spears of the emotion through his body – until all life faded and she sunk to the floor – dead.

The exiled prince stared at the lifeless, golden body of the giant rat at his feet for what might have been a minute, unable to believe he had won. That he had actually won.

When his brain had processed the battle at last, a wave of pride and joy engulfed him and he nearly broke into hysteric laughter, so great was the relief. His eyes blurred from tears, and only when he attempted to stand up and his injured leg gave way, he remembered he had maybe won, but not remained unscathed.

He supported himself on his sword like on a crutch and still almost fell, quickly pressing a piece of his coat to the badly bleeding part. Fervently hoping she hadn’t severed any arteries he gritted his teeth and, after retrieving Mys, began limping in the direction of the river.

His job was done, all he wanted was to get back to the island before Goldfang’s followers would come to check on her. He was in absolutely no condition to fight any more of them.


	19. Mercenary

Henry joltingly woke as something dripped on his face. He cried in pain when he hit his head on the low ceiling of the tight cave he had been sleeping in. Groaning, he sank back on the floor and rubbed his head. The cave was most uncomfortable, but it was only here that he felt safe, for he knew rats and other possible threats were too big to fit through the entrance.

As another drop of water hit his face he wiped it away and turned left – to count the marks. He had never done it before exile, but somehow, keeping a tally about the passage of days made him feel more on top of things. Though it also reminded him of how he’d spend his first month in exile with Thanatos in his cave. Back then, his tally had counted almost thirty, the one now was comparably meager.

He lifted his arm and made the fourth line.

It was, in all honesty, hard to believe – if he added up the three days he’d spent on the island and the other three he’d been out hunting for Goldfang to the four he’d spent out here now – plus the few in between that he had spent traveling – nearly two weeks had passed since Thanatos had been kidnapped.

Henry sighed and closed his eyes again, only when another drop of water hit his cheek he angrily glared at the dripping spot before rising, at last. The closest river ran directly above this cave, and it always began dripping at a certain time of day, Henry suspected when the water level rose to its highest from the tides. He had woken up to worse alarms before, yet that didn’t stop him from complaining.

After he’d extended one hand to grab his boots and the other to take up the backpack he’d used as pillow, he finally squeezed through the crack in the wall that led to a larger, adjacent cave. It was time to start the day – so the dripping water commanded.

Henry struggled a little with his boots, meaning to go easy on his still bandaged leg, even though it had nearly healed at this point. He’d be able to take the bandage off soon.

When hearing of his victory, the crawlers had celebrated him a hero. They had swamped him with tons of goods – grain for bread, fuel, and badly-needed medicine. Disinfectant, painkillers, bandages – Henry knew not if his leg would have healed so well, hadn’t he had access to it all.

The bread he had made with the crops was boring and tasteless, for he’d had no salt, but it made a nice addition to the fish. He had made sandwiches that day for the first time, and it had been bittersweet in a lot of ways. Memories of a past he had nearly forgotten at this point, had flooded back, and while thinking of his former friends and family was still bittersweet, he had experienced a slight surge of pride, too.

For a moment he had imagined their faces, were they to learn he was still alive, and what he had survived and mastered so far. What they all would say, all who had called him a good-for-nothing troublemaker – if they’d see him now?

Then again, it wasn’t like he himself had believed to be capable of any of the things he found himself doing now. As surprised as they all would be, Henry himself would always be the one surprised the most.

He had relished the fantasy for a while until he had remembered that, would they actually find out, they would execute him for treason, and the thought seized giving him joy.

Despite how well the crawlers on the island had treated him, Henry had quickly decided he wouldn’t stay. Originally, he had set out to search for the spinners who had kidnapped Thanatos but had soon found himself lost. He could hardly do more than venture in the approximate direction as he had no concrete lead, and all he had discovered so far were empty tunnels of Dead Land, and one or two occasional shiners or crawlers.

By their presence, he had concluded he must be close to where he and Thanatos had stayed, during their first month in the Dead Land, and had gone to search for the river they had camped at. He had followed it further upstream and discovered this little cave directly beneath, that he had deemed safe enough to sleep.

The last four days he had spent exploring a different path every day, like in homage to his and Thanatos’ patrol rounds. Henry had found he even recognized many tunnels from back then and started consciously mapping them out in his notebook, to not get lost again.

Now, he was proud to have a fairly good understanding of this part of the Dead Land, to the point where he could usually traverse it even without lighting his torch.

As he had gotten dressed, Henry shouldered his backpack and began making his way up the familiar narrow tunnel to the river. His soles were robust enough to barely slip on the steep path, and Henry reached the water in only ten large steps. Sometimes it took him twelve or thirteen, but he had once made it up in eight, too.

At the river he briefly washed his face, sat, and caught breakfast, contemplating in what direction he should explore today. Yesterday he had gone further upstream and a few crawlers he had met on the way had told him the territory of the flutterers lied nearby. If he was looking for someone, they said, he should ask them for help. Apparently, the moths were excellent scouts.

Henry mindlessly kicked a pebble into the river, staring in the direction they had pointed him. Was it even worth paying the flutterers a visit?

The hope to ever find Thanatos alive shrunk with every day that passed. Henry had no idea where or why the spinners had taken him, all he knew was that the flier had talked of some “unfinished business” when he had insisted on coming here. Had he formerly gotten himself into some sort of trouble that had now caught up to him? If that was the case, would he really be left alive for nearly two weeks?

And what would Henry get out of sending scouts after him, only for them to report back his flier was dead?

Confirmation, he bitterly thought, rising to his feet after tossing the fishbone into the water. I’ll get confirmation. As long as he didn’t have that, he could never seize hope. What if his flier was alive now, but would end up dying because the exiled prince had seized looking for him?

For the first time, Henry thought he understood what Thanatos had meant when he had talked of “not wanting an unnecessary death on his conscience” and gritted his teeth determinately. Were the roles reversed, the flier would look for him too – or so he told himself.

Henry knew little regarding his flier’s fate, but what he certainly knew was that he had to try everything in his power to find him – until he got confirmation.

The exiled prince confidently walked down the tunnel the crawlers had pointed him to. He had never interacted with the Underland-moths, barely even seen more than a couple, all he knew was that they were fairly peaceful and close allies to the crawlers. Therefore, he didn’t really know what to expect but decided to be prepared for everything, as Teslas always preached.

So far, he was in known territory, which made the trek faster. His backpack was lighter too, he had left most of his heavy supplies and the cooking utensils at the cave. Those he had even taken with him from what he had started calling the crawler island.

Deeming the place secure and remote enough, he had set up a little supply stash he could come back to, consisting mainly of things that would not rot or otherwise spoil quickly, like grain. The island was isolated and the crawlers on it adored him, there was hardly a better place for leaving a stock of goods.

Now, the trip through the familiar tunnel took him around half an hour. It led in an almost perfectly straight line away from the part of the Dead Land he had mapped out, and soon mounded in a wide cave. Henry spotted an opening some five feet above ground and pulled himself up, dreadfully aware he was no longer in any tunnel he had ever traversed.

At first he had to duck, so narrow the passage was. All the light he had was the singular torch he lit as soon as he had left his mapped out territory, and he had to watch out to not spill any fuel, so uncomfortable were the first couple minutes of his trip. Luckily, the tunnel soon widened so much he could not even reach both walls when he stretched his hands out, and his trek became much easier.

The tunnel went on for another half an hour. Occasionally, he heard a distant rustling, shadows scurrying in the dark, but nothing attacked or even made itself known to him, so he proceeded, even if his hand was at the hilt of his sword at all times. He was done being scared of unknown shadows in the dark, Henry decided. For all he knew, they were just as scared as he. And if they wanted to attack, they should feel free. He would chop anything up that so much as dared make a hostile move towards him.

When he had, at last, reached the end of the tunnel he spotted a narrow shaft leading upward. He saw not where it ended and was contemplating how to even traverse it with his torch when he suddenly found himself surrounded.

Four times four wings with a span of nearly five feet enclosed him. At first glance, they seemed of a dull brown or grey, but when Henry looked closer, he saw they were ornated in different patterns. The bodies the wings belonged to were maybe three feet tall and elongated, their eyes huge and black, and their antennas nearly half as long as their bodies.

The exiled prince winced back and almost ran one of them over. “Hey... uh... you the... flutterers? Because I was looking for those, actually...”, he stammered, cursing how insecure he sounded.

The tallest one, a moth with pretty orange circles on its wings, drew a little closer. “We have watched you, human, since you entered the passage to our land. I am Kuthe, my mother is the queen of our people. For what purpose do you seek us out?”

Henry collected himself a little and straightened out his back, in an attempt to emit confidence. “My name is...”, he hesitated – was it smart to go around telling species that were friendly with the humans who he was? “Ehm, well, I wish I could tell you my name”, he shifted and deliberately casually put a hand to his hip, “but if you live alone, you don’t really need one.”

That had been Thanatos’ response when Henry had asked him to introduce himself for the first time, and Henry decided he could get used to the thought of stealing it for himself.

Raising his eyes back at the moth he quickly continued – “I am looking for a friend. Some crawlers told me you can help with that?”

Two of the others approached the princess and started whispering to her. Maybe a minute passed before she raised her voice again – “You are a friend of the crawlers?”

“Oh, I am!” As little as Henry enjoyed the thought of being the savior of the crawlers, as much he knew that status would help him in his current situation, so he decided to make the best of it. “I’m not even just their friend”, he continued, gazing straight at the moth princess, “I am, like, their savior. Two colonies have me to thank for their life – you might have heard, they call me “Wielder of Light”. And if that suffices for a name, then I suppose it is mine.”

More murmur followed, this time it sounded excited. “So, you are truly who our allies praise as the “Wielder of Light” in all their settlements? And now you come to us, seeking our help?” Kuthe’s voice was much friendlier now and she was rubbing her forearms together in what he thought was glee.

“Indeed. And I’m not even asking for a free favor – I am rather looking to strike a deal. I’m sure there is something I can do for you in return for your help.”

Kuthe exchanged glances with the others. “My mother will decide”, she finally answered. “Please follow.”

The cave beyond the narrow and steep passage Henry had previously been forced to stop at was ginormous. When the exiled prince climbed out of the tight shaft and took back his torch that one of the moths had carried up for him he could see hundreds and hundreds of them covering the walls.

The entire cave was buzzing with life and he had trouble not running into any of them. But when he raised his torch higher, every single flutterer in close proximity stopped in their tracks and stared at him, so Henry quickly lowered it again.

The moth who had carried it up previously mumbled he should cover the light up with something out of respect, as their people were not accustomed to brightness.

Henry had to suppress a giggle at some flutterers who stared into the light with widened eyes, visibly fighting the temptation to fly at it, before he finally wrapped a cloth around the torch to dim it.

This is most likely their main headquarters, he thought as he proceeded further in, against his will, somewhat impressed. The princess and her entourage stopped somewhere in the middle of the cavern where a natural stone formation rose from the ground. On top of it sat a singular moth, surrounded by who Henry assumed to be guards, armed with something that looked like short lances made of bones.

The moth in the middle was majestic. She had a wingspan of more than five feet, the patterns on the greyish surface were of an unusual shade of blue and green. Around her neck, she wore something like a necklace with different types of stones.

“This is my mother, Queen Lakethe. She is the leader of our people”, her daughter introduced her, and the moth queen nodded in his direction. Henry knew it was expected of him to bow, and yet it felt utterly wrong to do it, even now. Never had he bowed to anyone, and he quickly found he never wanted to do it again either.

As Henry explained his situation to her, the queen listened with great interest. When he mentioned it had been the spinners who had captured Thanatos, Kuthe raised her head. “Mother, do you think it were the Sicix who took his friend?” Lakethe gazed at her daughter and nodded.

Noticing Henry’s confused face, the princess explained – “An elite team of spinner assassins, they hold great honor among their kind and kill and abduct for payment.”

Henry blinked in surprise. For a moment he found it hard to believe there were spinners who did anything other than weave. He had never heard of such a thing, not even from Vikus. Then again, he supposed it made sense not every single of them did the same thing for a living. He further pondered if they were indeed assassins, that would explain why they had gone after Thanatos. Someone must have hired them to capture him. Perhaps whoever the flier had had his “unfinished business” with.

“Colleagues, then.” The careless tone in his voice was supposed to make him seem confident. “You are a mercenary? Really?”, Kuthe rubbed her cheek in disbelief.

Henry put his hands to his hips. “I am. I killed the rat Goldfang for the crawlers that live on the island about half a mile from the coast, in that direction”, he pointed to where he had come from. “She was formerly a general under King Gorger and threatening to occupy their home. Wasn’t even that big of a deal.”

The queen and her daughter exchanged glances and for a moment Henry thought they had seen through his false confidence before Lakethe spoke again – “Then we might indeed have use for your help.”

The exiled prince went over the things he intended to take for something like the hundredth time. Slingshot, water bag, the remaining bread, Mys, sword, fire stones – had he his slingshot?

One of the queen’s lackeys had shown him to a remote corner of the cave, where he could prepare for the trip he would have to undertake, and leave whatever he wished not to bring. He was fumbling with his slingshot, feeling as though he had counted it ten times over the last five minutes, and finally stashed it at the bottom of his backpack.

Then he glanced up at the niche where he had stored the rest of his things – the pot, the notebooks, the rest of his supplies.

The moths had assured him his things would be safe, and while it felt strange to leave the notebooks behind, the risk was greater if he took them. Who knew what he would have to do, and how much he’d need to swim? He thought he was definitely going to get his feet wet at some point, so after some toing and froing, he decided to leave his coat behind as well.

Henry, at last, stood up. He was as terrified of this job as he had been of the last, though for an entirely different reason.

Lakethe had explained her people were usually peaceful, yet at the moment they were forced to wage war with a species that resided beyond the maps of the humans. Under new lead, they had sought conquest and tried to expand their territories at the expense of the flutterers, and those had been compelled to defend their borders.

The war had lasted for quite some time now, though Lakethe had claimed if Henry succeeded today, it would most certainly end.

When the exiled prince had asked for the identity of this species, the queen had revealed she was talking of a race of Underland-wasps, referred to as buzzers.

Before Henry had been able to break into a laughing fit at the name, Kuthe had interrupted and warned they themselves hated the name vigorously, claiming it was a disgrace to their species. Henry thought he had no problem believing that – would anyone try to call him a “buzzer” he would certainly take it personally as well. And short-tempered they were, so the moths had said, quick to judge and sting – and their venom was one of the deadliest known in the entire Underland.

And those – buzzers – were who Henry had been set up against. Their queen resided in a nest about a day’s trip from here, but the moths had explained it wasn’t her who he was supposed to kill.

“The queen is only appearing to be a queen, in truth, her sole purpose is to deliver offspring to increase her kind’s numbers”, Kuthe had explained. “The ones truly reigning over the buzzers are their two Supreme Generals. They give commands and organize their society – and they are who seek to occupy our lands. They are who you need to eliminate.”

Lakethe had nodded, undermining her daughter’s words – “If you take them out, the buzzers will become disorganized and weak, and surely lose interest in conquest, at least for a while. And our borders will once again be secured.”

As he had listened to their explanations, Henry had pondered on whether he’d ever even heard of the buzzers. Vikus might have mentioned them at some point, though he could have that confused. If he had ever spoken of them, it had been a long time ago and Henry had certainly not properly listened.

At that point, the flutterers had demanded a confirmation as to whether he was taking the job or not, and Henry had known, as dangerous as it was to go up against a species he had never engaged, he hardly had a choice. Clarity on Thanatos’ fate was on the line, and he would do whatever it took to get it.

Henry closed his backpack up, thinking about how he’d need to refill his water bag during the journey. Then he shouldered it, together with his sword, and stepped out into the center of the cave again.

He was nervous about this job, almost more than the other, because he barely knew what he was dealing with. The rats were a familiar enemy, he knew they were lethal and cunning, but when it came to the buzzers, he had little idea what to expect.

After he had told the flutterers he would do the job, but would need additional information on his targets and their species as he had never even heard of them, Lakethe had ordered her daughter to hold a briefing with the exiled prince on the buzzers and reveal anything she deemed important or helpful.

He had learned much, over the last two hours, like how the buzzers fiercely hated warmbloods, in a similar manner to the cutters, who were some of their closest allies. That was the main reason they had always avoided crossing paths with the humans, the fliers, and even the gnawers. They cared little for cold-blooded species who were friendly with the humans, like the crawlers and the flutterers themselves, either.

Henry’s main takeaway from that was that his “Wielder of Light”-title wouldn’t get him anywhere with them.

Yet the most important piece of information Kuthe had disclosed was that the buzzers were much easier to strike down than rats. One proper stone to the head should do the job. The only downside was, that their numbers were as large as those of the flutterers themselves.

Henry stopped and forced himself to not give in to the urge to check whether he had packed his slingshot – again. He remembered packing it about a hundred times, there was no need to further delay his departure. The faster he’d get this over with, the faster he’d get news on Thanatos.

In exchange for him killing the two generals, Lakethe had promised to send their best scouts to find out if Thanatos was alive, and if, where he was held captive.

“As further payment, you may keep the buzzers’ wings”, Kuthe had announced after their briefing. Henry had been confused at first, but the princess had elaborated – “If the spinners truly hold your friend, you will need something to buy him free. They do not do favors. And there is nothing the spinners value more than the wings of buzzers. They can make some of their rarest type of silk with them.”

Henry found the concept that spinners were supposed to be into wasp-wings incredibly amusing, though he decided to keep it in mind. The last thing he needed was to face the spinners, seeing Thanatos within reach – with nothing to offer in exchange for his life.

Already on the lookout for Kuthe who had promised to assign him a guide to show him to the land of the buzzers, his gaze met his leg. He had only now taken the bandages off, but it was as good as healed. All that remained from the vicious injury was a long, red line. It would surely turn white soon, like all the others.

Henry smiled as he mindlessly played with the stitch where he had needed to sow up his pants – he was collecting scars like he was collecting titles, apparently.

From the distance, he spotted Kuthe’s orange wings and began heading in her direction. As he made his way past numerous rows of flutterers he found himself contemplating his own sanity for a moment. What did he even think he was doing – capering off into the complete unknown – against an entirely foreign enemy, with not even a proper plan?

Then he shrugged and dismissed the nagging worry. The better question was – why WOULDN’T he? It was what he needed to do to get what he wanted. And what was life without a good amount of risk-taking, anyway?

Yes, he was going up against a completely unknown species – he had done crazier things before... maybe.

Maybe not, Henry thought, maybe he hadn’t done crazier things before. He shifted to stabilize himself up in the narrow tunnel, instinctively cowering lower and suppressing the urge to cover his ears that rang with the incessant buzzing.

He found himself around twenty feet above the floor of the vast cave that stretched before him – and in its midst loomed the ginormous, greyish structure, anchored on both ceiling and floor.

The trek had taken exactly a day, as the moths had said. Kuthe’s guide had turned back as soon as they had heard the first sounds, he had said Henry only needed to follow the same tunnel and he would not be able to miss it – the nest.

It was gigantic, maybe thirty feet tall, and of a grey, organic-seeming material, that almost pulsated with life. It hung from the ceiling on several strings, some reached to anchor it to the floor also, and here and there the black-and-yellow-striped tail of a wasp poked out.

The most astonishing part, however, was how he was able to see it at all. Henry squinted his eyes, attempting to determine a light source, but there was none in sight. Instead, the nest seemed to glow from within, like it was inhabited by shiners not buzzers. Maybe it was whatever they produced in there that glowed.

Henry shrugged, deciding he couldn’t afford to bother himself with that now. If he was doing this, he needed a plan. And a damn good one, for that.

Ten minutes later the exiled prince had finally found what he had been looking for – a water body. Maneuvering the tight tunnels bordering the cave with the nest without getting lost had taken its time, but it had given him the opportunity to come up with a plan.

Then he had, at last, stumbled upon a broad river that leisurely ran nearby. Upon closer inspection, he had found it was not just a single cave with a river, but a whole flooded cave system, the lower part stood underwater, and the exiled prince found it was perfect.

He kneeled beside the outskirt of the river to feel the temperature – it wasn’t warm by any means but not icy, as he had feared, either. The glow it emitted was not as bright as he had expected, maybe it would get stronger later.

As he sat his backpack down, looking for somewhere to store it, Henry pondered whether the light would suffice for aiming. He fetched his sling and tried it, discovering the conditions weren’t ideal – he saw shapes but not details. Maybe he should wait a few hours until the glow would intensify. For this time, he couldn’t afford to miss even one shot.

Henry went over the mental map he had made of the area, wishing he would have brought his notebook after all, to mark it down.

Once he would have lured the buzzers out of their nest he would have to hide from them – fast. And, according to Kuthe, like all flying cold-bloods, they despised water.

He should use the time he had before the lighting condition improved to scout out and memorize the fastest way here from the nest, he decided as he heaved his backpack into a niche in a far-off corner.

Henry turned his gaze back on the water and attempted to make out how well he’d be able to hide in the underwater part of the system. From where he stood he couldn’t see much of it, only that the wall of the cave didn’t connect with the floor, instead, it gave way to what seemed to be more space further down. The floor did the same, somewhere in the middle of the river it began visibly declining until it became so deep Henry saw not where it led. Like a natural canalization system, running on a lower level parallel to the main water body.

From where he sat at the river he could not tell how deep it went, neither how extensive it was, nor whether there was an air bubble somewhere. He found himself grateful he had practiced holding his breath at the Vineyard of Eyes, for the only thing he could say with certainty at the moment was that he would need to do that soon.

Well, maybe the smart thing to do now was to check out what was down there, before risking to drown by hiding in an underwater cave system he hadn’t previously explored. He had time anyway.

Henry thought at least this time he knew he would be swimming, so he could prepare. He swiftly took his boots as well as his shirt off, and stored them, together with his sword in the niche where he’d left his backpack. He was certain he wouldn’t need the sword for this, yet he decided to leave Mys where it was, at the back of his hip. For emergencies.

Then he stuck his slingshot into the back of his belt and began filling the pockets on it with stones. Henry managed to fit eight again and thought that should suffice.

As he twisted one in his hand, contemplating whether it was better suited than the one he had just discarded, he began having doubts again. Soon, this cave would be filled with trigger-happy wasps, and he had not even armor. Henry thought he’d give a lot for a breastplate or something, right about now, but of course, there was no way to acquire one.

Maybe he should look into trading for armor after this mission though. If anyone other than humans even had the stuff.

Just as he had finished tying his hair together to prevent it from getting in the way and lowered his leg into the river, to take a look at what was below, he made out the buzzing noise – from behind.

Henry jumped and barely prevented plummeting into the water, before realizing the wasps hadn’t reached the cave yet. The noise was coming from somewhere outside.

No, he wasn’t done yet, he wasn’t ready, he thought, attempting to suppress the uprising panic. He had not explored the underwater caves, nor had he scouted a way from here to the nest, nor –

Wait, the exiled prince froze. Why were they coming already? He hadn’t even lured them out yet! He peeked his ears and registered they were coming from the opposite direction of the nest.

He darted up and out of the water, ducking behind a ledge to watch. Alright, maybe this wasn’t so bad. Maybe they were just returning home, from some patrol or something, and wouldn’t search for him.

Henry leaned forward to see better in the still much too dim light – only to widen his eyes in surprise.

It was five wasps in total, who now entered the cave with the river. As expected, they paid little attention to their surroundings and flew straight for the nest.

For the first time, Henry got a good look at them. Their bodies were more than three feet long and striped in bright yellow and black. Attached to them was a pair of shimmering, transparent wings. Their large compound eyes were fixated straight ahead and the stingers on their rumps were seven inches long and razor-sharp.

But the source of Henry’s surprise weren’t their features. Yes – his eyes had not deceived him – the buzzer flying in the middle was a little taller than the others, and wore the distinct sash of brightly red-colored spinner silk Lakethe had described as the hallmark of the generals.

The exiled prince dared not release the breath he was holding and tightened his grip around the handle of his slingshot, attempting to steady his hand. This was one of his targets – and he only had four guards with him. Henry knew he’d wanted to wait until the light brightened. He knew he hadn’t done any scouting yet, that he wasn’t as well prepared as he’d wanted to be. He knew he’d had a plan.

But... screw the plan.

The stone struck the buzzer-general out of nowhere. He sounded a short, sharp scream before he dropped where he had hovered – dead.

The buzzing of the guards became louder and angrier as they swarmed the body of the dead general and, as soon as they spotted him, they began heading for the assassin. Henry saw they were coming and hastily tore his pocket open to fire what he estimated to be five or six stones at random, fearing they’d overwhelm him would he stop to properly aim now.

But as soon as the first dropped from a projectile and they had properly registered they were still being shot at, they turned from Henry and headed for the exit, towards the nest.

Panic engulfed the exiled prince as he understood what that entailed, and he aimed again, desperately hoping he could hit them all before they reached their destination. Yet to his horror one guard still lived when he had run out of stones, and Henry could only watch him disappear in the direction of the nest, incessantly buzzing.

The exiled prince gazed after him and fervently cursed himself for going against his own damn plan. Now the guard would alert his friends and they would all be here soon, searching for him.

Like I wanted, he suddenly thought. He had wanted to lure them out regardless, and now he had achieved that, even taken out one of two targets already.

Yes, sure – Henry clenched his jaw as he hastily began gathering up as many new stones as he could get his hands on – but not YET! Now he would need to hide in the underwater caves, not knowing how safe they were or whether they had air. Now he would have to shoot the second general in the less than ideal lighting conditions.

Fantastic. A professional mercenary he’d wanted to be – and here he was, making stupid amateur mistakes. Yet he had no time to dwell on it, or to indulge in more self-pity. He needed to hide.

Henry just about made it to the water and quickly ducked into one of the flooded caverns when he heard the sound. It was the same buzzing from earlier, only a hundred times louder... and polyphonic.

Then, chaos ensued in the cave. Hundreds of buzzers swarmed in, drowning it in their furious sounds, and frantically began searching every nook and cranny with stingers bared – for him.

Henry submerged into the water entirely and retreated further, striving to stay out of sight. Then it occurred to him he should at least now get an impression of this underwater system.

He stuck his sling into his belt and made his way deeper in, constantly in search of air. The cave reached farther than he had anticipated and the current wasn’t strong, Henry swam against it and finally surfaced in an air pocket, so deep he almost couldn’t make out the buzzing anymore.

He held onto a stone ledge and took a couple deep breaths, to collect himself. His improvised kill earlier might have not been the smartest move, but it had taken out one of his targets, leaving him with only one more.

Henry shivered from cold and started beating the water with his legs faster, turning in the direction where the buzzing sound was coming from. He’d need to go back out to kill the second target, the faster the better. The only thing he didn’t know was how he was supposed to escape afterward.

Alright, one thing after the other, he attempted to calm himself. He had already witnessed what happened when he began jumping ahead of schedule. Maybe this time, instead of rushing ahead, he should search for an escape route first.

The exiled prince explored the underwater tunnel system further and soon came across a crack in one of the back walls, that supplied water to the river. Henry easily widened it by removing a few loose boulders and slipped through the passageway he had cleared, fighting against the current.

As he finally pulled himself out on the other side, Henry’s jaw dropped. He swam out into a vast cave, at least a hundred feet long, and found himself on the outskirt of a gigantic lake. On the far end, a fountain of water shot up, producing countless bubbles – there must be an underwater spring.

This is where he would escape to, he thought as he swam further out into the lake. All he needed to do now was go back, find the second general, kill him, and swim back here. The underwater passage was the only visible entrance to the cave, so the buzzers wouldn’t be able to follow.

Henry swam a full round before diving again, squeezing out of the crack he had previously widened. When he reached the cave with the river and carefully inched his head out of the water, the first thing that greeted him was the deafening buzzing of hundreds of frantic wasps.

His eyes searched the cave for his target, but he was not in sight. This would be the hard part, he thought, retreating back. As Henry carefully maneuvered beneath the surface of the water, further down the stream, to have a better overview of the cave, he finally spotted the second general. His sash shone in bright red and he was the only one not actively participating in the search. Instead, he hovered close to the exit, flanked by two guards, and seemed to be supervising.

Henry estimated he was maybe twenty feet from him. He knew that, under normal circumstances, he could have easily dropped him with his slingshot – if only the light was better, and he could dare come out of the water for a moment.

Henry left the general not out of sight as he contemplated his options. Were he to attempt this, he should get as close as possible without drawing attention.

Henry submerged again and swum with the stream until he had come within fifteen feet of the wasp with the sash. He cautiously eyed the guards at his side, deciding this was as good as it would get.

The exiled prince dipped his head out of the water to take a deep breath, loaded his slingshot, and began silently counting to ten. He squinted his eyes, fixating only on his target, and attempted to shut out the chaotic buzzing, to disregard all possible distractions. Then, in one swift motion, he stepped forward, out of the water – and shot.

The buzzer with the sash dropped as his colleague had, but every single other wasp in the room instantly turned his way. It was even something along the lines of silent for a moment, before the buzzing resumed, even louder and more fervent.

Henry staggered back, but one of the general’s guards, who had been closest to where he stood, already aimed its stinger. The exiled prince leaped to the side to dodge and it scraped the wall behind him with an unnerving screech that permeated every cell in his body. Henry gritted his teeth in discomfort and instinctively got a hold of Mys.

Catching the dazed wasp by surprise, he rammed it into its bright yellow and black torso. The buzzer dropped dead and Henry immediately submerged. Still clutching the dagger he watched the rest of the wasps angrily circling above where he had dived, but unable to follow.

Overwhelming triumph engulfed him and he swallowed water as his mouth widened to a grin. Quickly he found his way back to an air pocket and spent the next minute coughing, then laughing in pure relief.

It was done – it was over and done, all he had to do was swim back to the lake, and wait – then reap the gain.

Henry didn’t know exactly how much time had passed – a couple hours maybe – when he dared peek back into the cave the fight had taken place in, for the first time. It was, as he had hoped, completely empty.

As much as he loved swimming, now he was downright happy to get out of the water, after having spent the last hours in the lake. Swimming, practicing with the sling, from in and out of the water, and more swimming – mainly to keep himself warm.

As Henry now stepped out of the water his teeth rattled from cold and he tiptoed over to where he had left his stuff. He quickly dried himself off and slipped into his shirt, regretting having left his coat at the flutterer’s hub.

When the exiled prince turned to take up his backpack and get the hell out of there though, he winced and cowered down against the wall, inching behind a ledge. How had they not spotted him yet? Two guards had now hovered into sight, from somewhere on the other side of the cave. They seemed to be patrolling.

Well, maybe the buzzers aren’t completely stupid, Henry pulled out his sling once more. He had practiced firing two stones in a row after the episode with Goldfang’s henchmen.

For the first time, as he aimed now, he registered the glow of the water had indeed intensified over time – he saw his targets clearly now. The two wasps dropped to the floor at once, and Henry wished killing rats was this easy. After he had made sure they had been the only guards he packed his sling away and finally shouldered his backpack, more than ready to leave.

Henry began making his way to the exit. If today had taught him anything, it was that he liked the wasps as little as the cutters. If not less. And, of course, that plans existed for a reason.

Another job done, he thought, not without pride. In a day’s trek, I’ll be back at the flutterers’, and they’ll have news on Thanatos – maybe.

A sharp thorn of fear suddenly pierced his heart. He’d have confirmation on his – no, THE flier’s fate then. Only now he registered he had been referring to Thanatos as “his” flier as of lately, and shook his head, asking himself how it had come this far.

But no, when it came to the flier’s fate, he had to be optimistic. Thanatos hadn’t survived in the Dead Land on his own for what, seven years, only to be killed by some spinners – or whoever they worked for – now. He was resourceful and smart, maybe he had already fled on his own?

Henry was making his way down the tunnel that led away from the cave with the river when he suddenly remembered Kuthe’s words – _As payment, you may keep the wings_ – the wings! He’d almost forgotten!

After quickly strapping the furs over his feet as silencers he approached the corpses of the guards – those of the generals and the one he had stabbed in defense the buzzers had taken away.

He cowered next to them and carefully severed both wings from each of the two. After some consideration, he pulled out an empty container from his backpack and siphoned the venom from their stingers. Who knew when that would come in handy.

After storing the delicate wings as well as the flask with the venom in his backpack he got back up and turned away from the river for the second – and hopefully last – time.

When he was so far away he couldn’t see the glow of the water anymore, Henry dared relax for the first time. As he caught his breath, the realization hit him that this was his second successful mercenary job. Sure, things hadn’t exactly gone smoothly and he had much to learn, but there was no denying he was getting a hang of this.

He regarded the wings in his backpack and felt some pep return to his step. Now he had not only outsmarted a whole colony of trigger-happy wasps, but he also had the means to find and free Thanatos. And who knew, maybe he was interested in joining this little business of his?

Henry grinned as he followed the tunnel, occasionally snapping his fingers to avoid running into obstacles. He was well on his way, and if Lakethe had spoken the truth, he had just ended an entire war. Who’d have thought?

Yet the further he went, the more he thought about it – it dawned on him he had done all this to save Thanatos, though as it turned out, he didn’t exactly... need the flier around anymore.

He had survived for two weeks on his own, gotten by really well even, and there was no reason to believe anything would change – not only had he met and arranged himself with new species and started orientating himself in the Dead Land, but he had now discovered and established a possible source of income, and a fairly good one, too.

If it would turn out Thanatos was dead – Henry came to an abrupt halt and allowed the realization to properly sink in – he would be entirely fine on his own.

The confidence the thought brought was overwhelming, and a wide grin spread on his face. Yes, this was how far it had come, what he had worked for so hard. Now, for the first time in not only exile but his entire life, he thought he had the right to be proud of his skills and accomplishments.

A wave of affirmation engulfed him and he remembered how he had felt he hadn’t the right to be proud anymore. Now he had, and as hard-earned as it had been, the sensation was immensely satisfying.

He was not dependent on anyone anymore – Henry was on the brink of running, so much the thought invigorated him. And if Thanatos was alive, it will be his choice whether they would continue their alliance.

I will not let him order me around like he used to, he thought. He might have been able to force me into submission by threatening to leave before, but those days are over – period.

Then something else inevitably came to mind – if he was really so independent now, why was he even going through all this trouble to save the flier?

He had sought out a new species, agreed to risk his life going up against an army of giant wasps, and all that for someone he had no official obligations towards and didn’t even have mutual need with anymore?

Those thoughts swarmed his head when Henry reached the creek he had rested at on the way here, and he instantly plopped down beside it again. Unable to keep his utter exhaustion at bay, he decided a little break was exactly what he needed before taking the final trip to the moth colony.

He would get back – soon. But first, he would rest.

The joy about his victory, after he arrived back at the flutterer’s hub around a day later, was ginormous. They called for a celebration at once, to honor the end of the war, and Henry, as the one to thank for that.

“Let it be known – the Wielder of Light is savior not just to the crawlers, but the flutterers as well”, Lakethe had proclaimed, and Henry had wondered if he slowly but surely would work his way through becoming the savior of more or less every one of the weaker species now. Well, why actually not? It certainly worked wonders for his reputation.

But when he asked if the scouts had returned with news on Thanatos yet, Kuthe denied it. She claimed it would take them a couple days at most, and that he was welcomed to stay in the meantime, to partake in the celebration.

Henry spent another day in the cave of the moths, they swamped him with supplies and gifts. Especially the fuel he was grateful for as he had used almost all of his during this mission.

But as friendly as they all were and as much as he enjoyed the praise – the anxiety for Thanatos’ fate still hung over his head, and he wasn’t able to properly relax.

Around lunchtime on his second day in the moth colony, he found himself wondering why he even cared so much again – when a tumult suddenly broke out at the entrance.

Henry thought he overheard the word “scouts” and instantly leaped to his feet, making his way there, as did Kuthe. He made her distinct orange wings out against the flood of grey.

The princess soon approached two smaller moths with dark grey, patternless wings who hovered at the entrance. They talked in the flutterers’ language for a while and after what had seemed like an eternity to Henry, she finally turned to him. “These are the scouts I sent to seek for the flier.”

“Well? Where is he?” Henry consciously avoided asking if he was even still alive.

Kuthe rubbed her arms together, which the exiled prince had now learned equaled a smile. “He is being held in the headquarters of the spinners, north from here”, she paused, rubbing her arms together again. “He is alive and well.”


	20. Alliance

“Well, how much further is it?” Henry tugged at the straps of his backpack. He regretted having taken all his things with him, the pack was heavier than what he was used to.

The brown moth Kuthe had ordered to escort him to the spinners’ lair stopped and turned to him. “We are nearly there.”

They continued in silence. Henry thought he would recognize the path from when they had visited the spinners during the quest for the Prophecy of Gray, but nothing seemed familiar. Maybe they were taking a different route.

As they traversed the narrow tunnel, Henry for the first time asked himself how he would even do this. Last time, they had been taken prisoner immediately as they had entered the land of the spinners, and that on a peaceful mission and in the company of Vikus and Solovet. They had barely escaped, and he remembered telling Luxa nothing in the world could get him to return there ever.

Now look at me, doing what I said I never would. Then again, that had kind of become a habit as of recently, doing things he said or thought he never would. Going back to the spinners was a rather harmless example, too.

“I will not go further”, his guide stopped at the exit of the tunnel so suddenly Henry almost ran into him. “I do not want to anger the spinners. If you do, that is your choice.” He pointed ahead, “Cross the river, enter the passage on the other side, and you will reach their lair.”

Henry took a step forward, past the moth, to assess where he was. “Can do. And tell your queen it was nice making deals with her. Should she ever need a mercenary, she can always call me!” His guide gave a low, respectful nod before disappearing back to where they had come from.

Henry glanced after him for a moment, then turned and jumped the foot or so down into the cave ahead. He approached the river and, as he stared at the lazily streaming, shallow water, he at last recognized where he was.

His gaze jolted to the tunnel to his left, a part of him expected to see the body of the huge, grey rat with a scar across his face standing in it. But of course, Ripred wasn’t here now.

Henry’s hand automatically closed around his right wrist. _The hardest lesson for a soldier to learn is to obey orders he believes are wrong_, he heard the words like the rat was speaking this very moment.

Angrily, he shook his head, dropping his backpack at the riverbank. If that was what soldiers had to do, maybe Cevian had been right and he wasn’t soldier material.

Stupid rat, he scoffed as he unsheathed Mys to catch food before he would look into how he could get to the spinners and Thanatos. Maybe it would have been for the best had he succeeded in killing him, back then. Henry barely suppressed a snort. Had he succeeded, Ripred wouldn’t have been able to make fun of him later, in front of Gorger.

Then again, his quarrel with the rat had never been personal. Or at least it hadn’t started as such. Sure, he would have deserved a lesson for showing Henry up as he had, but that hadn’t been the reason he had tried to kill him.

Swiftly pulling the dagger out of the water and bashing the still writhing fish on its tip against the floor to kill it, the exiled prince found himself being taken back to what he had gone through, during the quest. He remembered lying awake, contemplating whether he’d made the right decision to ally himself with Gorger, and what consequences it would have for his family. For himself.

He recalled being torn, scared, and confused, yet eternally arrogant – untouchable. Nobody would thwart his plans, his was the only right and admirable choice. Henry shook his head at how foolish he had been. Then again, he only found it stupid because he knew the rats for who they were, now. Would he be stripped of that knowledge, he didn’t know how he would act. If he would even act differently.

Ripred had told him, flashed in his mind, and Henry angrily flung a fishbone at the wall. _Really, Henry, you are not fool enough to believe they will deliver_. He had known all along, what Henry’s fate would be. At the cliff, he had known. _What a lot of togetherness you are planning. And what a lot of solitude awaits you._

The exiled prince wished to scream in utter frustration, and threw the rest of the fish spine at the wall instead. _What a lot of solitude awaits you._ How the hell had he known? Had he known? Or had he guessed?

For a moment he attempted to ban all hostile emotions that still swamped him at the thought of the rat and pondered on how much he had actually known – or more specifically – when he had found out. When had been the first time he had dropped a hint?

_Take care, lad, _Henry heard his voice as if the rat was sitting beside him,_ or you shall end up like me, stripped of any respectable rank and warming your shabby old hide at the fire of your enemies._

This time he bothered not to suppress the snort. _Stripped of any respectable rank and warming your hide at the fire of your enemies_ – that sounded about right. Except his hide was still young and not even the least shabby.

Had he only succeeded in killing him, Henry narrowed his eyes at the tunnel Ripred had stood in, back when they had first seen him. Had he only – then again, he would have done Gorger and all who were loyal to him a favor, had he indeed succeeded in killing Ripred.

To impress his supposed ally, to prove his strength, and yes – a little also to get back at him for his incessant mockery – he had tried to kill the rat. But were Ripred dead, he would have done them a favor – those who had dragged him off the cliff, that day.

Henry tugged at the hilt of his dagger, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing he had failed, after all.

Angrily, he shook his head. Why was he thinking of Ripred now? The rat wasn’t here, and with some luck, they would never engage again. With some luck for him, yes, a voice in his head remarked, considering how inferior his fighting skills were to those of the rat.

Henry’s frustration rose so much it became nigh unbearable. He wanted not to be inferior to a rat in any way, especially not Ripred. But he was. And should they ever meet again, he was as good as dead.

Enough, he grimly decided as he rose to his feet, yanking his backpack up forcefully. Ripred was none of his concerns now. He had more important things to think about – namely how to free his – THE – flier from a damn spinner prison without getting himself killed.

His eyes wandered to the tunnel across the river, that he knew led into the spinners’ lair. For a moment he saw the wall of crawlers blocking it after Gregor and his sister had run in. Hadn’t they demonstrated this ability here, he would have never thought to utilize it, back at the citadel. The thought amused and scared him at the same time, somehow.

But now there were no crawlers in sight, and he wasn’t looking for them either. No, he needed to think about whether he could afford to just wander in, announcing his request. Their queen – Wavy or whatever her name had been – had seen his face, even if only briefly. She further almost certainly knew his name. Henry groaned. Did he really have to introduce himself as “Wielder of Light” again? The name was fancy and all, but he wasn’t sure if it was a good official exile-name. Somewhat long, and too... posh, too corny for his taste. Not fear-inducing enough. Not even remotely.

As he stood in front of the tunnel he pulled his hood over his head to conceal his face and decided to avoid introducing himself as much as possible. It was dark in the cave, there was no way they would recognize him after nearly half a year of exile and with the hood on.

Henry took a deep breath and chased all worries about how he was putting all his trust in the assumption the spinners would not web him if he said he was here to do trade from his mind. There was no use dwelling on that now, his mind was made up anyway, he would go in no matter what. He’d just have to risk that.

It was all or nothing now, the exiled prince brushed away a few webs that covered the entrance and took his first step into the tunnel. For him and for Thanatos.

* * *

It was pitch dark, yet the eerie cave was filled with scurrying, buzzing life. The spinners were many things, but lazy was most certainly not one of them. There was no reason to expect a change anytime soon, and yet all of a sudden a faint glow came into view, from the direction of the entrance.

Every spinner in the cave immediately turned and squinted their eyes at the unexpected brightness. They were all aware an intruder was approaching, and three of them instantly took position to greet them accordingly.

When the curtain of webs that covered the entrance was finally pushed aside and the intruder with the light source stepped into the cave, he found himself surrounded by two-foot-tall spiders.

“HEY –”, he quickly stopped himself from screaming and even dimmed the bright flame of his torch by holding it closer to the wall – “Hey, no need to web me. I come to do trade.”

The flier’s ears winced the second he heard the voice and his eyes jolted open, for the first time in what felt like years. From the far corner of the cave where they had strung him up, hidden out of sight by thick layers of web, he was barely able to make out silhouettes at the entrance. Only by his echolocation he saw the commotion clearly, but even without it he would have recognized that voice anywhere.

Was he really here, the flier thought, combating his own suspicion. Was this a trick his mind played on him? There was no way the boy was really here. Why would he have come here, he failed to process, how would he have even found him? Why would he have... bothered?

Despite his hesitation to trust his own ears and his better judgment, even hearing this voice somehow reanimated his limbs, which had long seized doing his bidding, and a shiver of life ran through his constrained body.

The spinners who surrounded the boy remained silent. He, deliberately casually, shifted from one leg to the other. “Listen, I’m not interested in trouble. But you guys kind of kidnapped a friend of mine a while ago, and I’d like him back now, please.”

The largest of the spinners hissed and drew closer, his companions remained silent altogether.

“Hey”, the boy raised his hands defensively, “I’m not saying I’m not willing to pay for his release – business, remember? And I believe you all will be very interested in what I have to offer.”

No, he was here, the flier was unable to deny it any longer. His echolocation did not lie, and he trusted his own memory not enough to so perfectly recreate his tone. That confident and slightly condescending tone he had always loathed and yet was so typical of the boy.

Still, even knowing he was truly here, the flier suppressed the uprising wave of hope the voice of the boy had brought with itself. It was not time to hope yet. What in the world was he even doing? He had nothing to offer, at least as far as the flier knew. What was his plan – did he even have a plan?

Then again – he had somehow found him, here, after all this time. The concept of hope was still foreign to him, but it was so hard not to draw any from the sound of his voice that the flier stopped fighting it eventually. It was like with the girl, like when she had always found him in even the remotest hideout, to restlessly chase him across the entire Underland. Only – the boy was really here now. He was... real.

Suddenly a single, huge spinner lowered itself from the ceiling, dropping to the floor inches in front of the boy. Her body was of an unusual orange and the others drew back respectfully as she rose to her full height.

She eyed him for a moment, then began rubbing one of her legs on her chest. Her voice was deep and quiet, but a certain commandeering tone couldn’t be overheard. “I am Queen Wevox of the spinners. We do not like humans here. Our only prisoner is the flier. He is already sold. You must leave now or we will web you.” The matter seemed to be settled for her as she turned from him at once, ready to disappear into the darkness.

“However much those other guys paid you for him, I can give more.”

The queen froze at his words and the flier couldn’t help but begin seriously asking himself what the boy thought he was doing.

“More? What more?”, she asked, slowly turning back to him. “Something you all want more than anything, or so I hear.” The boy turned his back on them and took off his backpack. After a quick search, he pulled out something thin, transparent, that the flier couldn’t see properly.

He turned back to Queen Wevox and her spinners and held it high up in the air. The flier still couldn’t see what it was, but apparently, the spinners could. Every single of them in the entire cave simultaneously turned to face the boy, something like a mix between gasp and murmur ran through the cave now, seemingly coming from every spinner present at once.

Queen Wevox herself leaped forward, towards him, and started – in a very un-queenly fashion – scurrying around, visibly bursting with excitement.

When she spoke again, the flier made out something like an excited shaking in her voice. “You bring us a buzzer wing? He brings us a buzzer wing, he brings us a buzzer wing.”

The murmur in the cave grew louder and the flier realized he had underestimated the boy this once. Whatever that... wing was, he had certainly come here, knowing the spinners would want it.

“Oh yes, I bring you a buzzer wing. Will that be more than... whoever it was... paid you?”

The queen was still visibly excited, she was bouncing up and down now, her leg trembled as she spoke. “The wing is more than enough. The slimers gave us only half the value of a wing. Give me the wing.”

The boy lowered the wing and stared at Wevox in surprise. “Wait... did you say the SLIMERS hired your assassins? Really?” The flier heard the amusement in his voice and silently steeled himself for about a hundred questions, regarding the reason no other than the Underland-snails wanted him dead. That would certainly be fun.

Then again – and this time nothing stopped the flood of hope from tearing down the walls of resignation around the flier’s... Thanatos’ heart. He would live to answer the questions, live to see the mockery. He would... live.

“Ah-ah”, the boy pulled the wing away from the spinner-queen when she tried to grasp it. “First, I’d like to see him.”

Wevox hissed angrily at his tone but heeded his request. She signaled for the spinners to clear a path to the backside of the cave from web, and slowly but surely the torchlight came closer and closer until Thanatos had to squint his eyes from the brightness he wasn’t used to anymore.

Henry had never seen the flier so helpless as now. Not even when the rats had wanted to publicly execute him, shortly after they had met for the first time. He was strung up in the back of the cave, body wrapped tightly in webs. Bats liked to hang, but the way he was hanging there had Henry clench his jaw in discomfort.

His wings were shackled, tied to his body in an uncomfortable angle, and his eyes were closed – but his ears were carefully pointed. Still, despite how miserable he looked, Henry was unable to suppress a wave of relief and joy at the sight of Thanatos – alive. He would get him out, and everything would be okay, he told himself. They would fly together again soon. The thought painted a smile on Henry’s face.

“Alright, it’s time for our trade then.” The exiled prince forcefully tore his eyes away from the flier and, after a moment of hesitation, held the wing in Wevox’ direction – “Now, here’s your payment.”

She snatched it from him immediately and passed it to a different spinner, who scurried away into the darkness with it. Henry found it hilarious how they freaked out about the wing, but took care not to let it show. He did ask himself what they would say if he pulled out the other three he had, though.

“And now that I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain”, he kept his tone deliberately casual, “I’d like...” Henry stepped forward, putting his hand to his chin as if he had to carefully consider what to choose. Then he turned, pointing at Thanatos – “ONE, preferably not-webbed, flier, please.”

Wevox shot him a somewhat confused look, which he couldn’t really blame her for, but gave the order to cut Thanatos down.

The webs around his body were neatly severed and, unable to spread his stiff wings on time, the flier plummeted to the ground, hitting it with a loud thud and a suppressed scream.

“Hey! Careful with the merchandise! I paid for a HEALTHY flier.” Now that he had started, Henry couldn’t stop the joke anymore. He thought Thanatos shot him an accusing glare, though he wasn’t sure in the sparing light. The spinners were just confused.

“What will we tell the slimers?” Henry twirled around when a second, light light brown spinner lowered himself from the ceiling, landing directly between him and Wevox. “They had personal interest in this one. He was meant for the slime bath.”

The queen dismissively waved him away. “The Sicix only capture, but never warrantee to deliver. You as their leader should know. If a better offer arises, we take it.”

Henry took a step back and eyed him suspiciously. This was one of the spinners who had kidnapped Thanatos, back at the cliff – the leader of the group who worked as mercenaries.

The exiled prince asked himself if it would be considered rude to ask what the “slime bath” was, but decided it didn’t matter. He was convinced, should they indeed decide to attack him, he could buy his freedom easily with more of the wings.

When Henry asked him to explain the term, the light brown spinner twitched in discomfort. “One of the most feared execution methods in the Underland. The slimers sentence traitors, killers, and ones guilty of great insult to their people to it. They drown you in slime. It takes hours until death comes. It is a most gruesome way to die.”

Henry shuddered at the mere thought. His gaze darted over to Thanatos and he asked himself for the hundredth time what in the world he had done for the slimers to loathe him so much. Not only had they hired assassins to go after him, he had further apparently committed something so severe they wished to execute him this gruesomely.

The slimers, Henry shook his head. Of all possible adversaries, it was the slimers the flier had angered. Then again, it explained one of the most burning questions on his mind – namely why they hadn’t come to claim and execute him yet, in what had amounted to two entire weeks. They were probably still on their way here. At... slimer’s pace.

In the meantime, Thanatos had managed to stretch his stiff limbs and spread his wings, careful not to cover them in webs again. “I will not hear a word”, he hissed, and as hostile as he attempted to sound, the strain and fatigue in his voice were far more evident.

“Oh, is that so?” Henry grinned, pretending he hadn’t noticed the flier’s discomfort. It felt far too good being the one to get him out of trouble, instead of the other way around, for once, and he would relish every second, no matter how Thanatos was feeling. This glee was hard-earned and it was his – only his.

“Let’s just go, moron”, Thanatos death glared him before carefully lifting off a couple feet to test his wings. Henry threw his hands up in pretended indignation – “Is this what I get for saving your ass?”, but turned to follow him in the direction of the exit. He only stopped when he realized he had three more buzzer wings, and nothing to do with them.

“Hey”, Henry took the step he had taken into the exit tunnel back out. “What would you say if I told you our business wasn’t over yet?”

At his words, Wevox approached again. “You have more buzzer wings?” Her voice once more held that excited tone. “Let’s say, hypothetically, I did. How much of your other wares would I get?”

The queen consulted with some of the other spinners in their language before addressing Henry. “We have clothes in your size. We will give them to you and anything else you need.”

The exiled prince snorted. “Seriously? You think I’m going to believe a set of fresh clothes is worth as much as a life to you?”

Wevox and the others started murmuring again. Then she made a new offer – “We will provide you with our goods for a while. Until your credit has run out.” The exiled prince smiled. “That sounds much better. I’ll make sure to inform myself as to how much these things are actually worth to you – not that I don’t trust you or anything, but you did just try to make me believe all I’d get out of it was a fresh set of clothes.”

Henry thought the queen acknowledged his confident bargain with something like a nod.

When he pulled out the last three wings he had and held them out to her, the entire cave echoed with the gasping noise from earlier again. Two spinners instantly scurried over, snatching them from him, and the queen rubbed two of her feet together. Maybe that was equivalent to a smile, not only among the flutterers but the spinners, too.

“Provide the Bringer of Buzzer Wings with whatever he asks for”, was her last command, before she disappeared into the darkness.

About half an hour later Henry, closely followed by Thanatos, finally stepped out of the tunnel to the spinner hub and onto the riverbank he had rested at earlier. His backpack was heavy with the freshly acquired stash of ropes, strings, clothes, and all imaginable types of fabrics, and he smiled, satisfied with himself.

The spinners had given the impression that, as long as he fulfilled his duty as “Bringer of Buzzer Wings”, he was welcome any time, and Henry made a mental note to make good use of that privilege in the future. After all, what human could claim to be welcome at the spinners’?

Briefly, Vikus and his desperate attempts at winning their friendship crossed his mind, well, maybe someone ought to tell him all he had to do was bring them a couple wings. Then again, as pacifist as he was, Henry was unsure if he’d even make use of that information.

He prepared to leap over the river when Thanatos flew out of the tunnel after him and nearly dropped, catching himself in the last second, but stumbling into the opposite wall in the process. Henry heard him audibly curse and shook his head at the flier’s stubbornness. He would not ask for a break, not even now. This wasn’t the safest spot ever, but it would suffice.

“Hey, how about we stay here for an hour or so”, he called out, dropping his backpack on the shore. “I’m hungry, to be honest. It’s the least you owe me!”

The flier grunted in response and landed next to Henry, visibly struggling to not collapse. Meanwhile, the exiled prince contemplated on how long he would be able to keep it from him that he had basically just eaten and took to catching something for the flier, infinitely glad he had, at this point, enough practice in fishing with Mys.

Thanatos had his half-closed eyes on him at all times as he lied outstretched on the beach, breathing heavily, as Henry thought unable to even get up and find somewhere to hang. He glanced at him from the corner of his eye and furrowed his brows in worry at the shape the flier was in. His fur was disheveled and dull, he seemed to have lost weight, the tissue on his wings looked strained, and the expression in his eyes was misted with something, Henry wasn’t entirely sure what.

As soon as the exiled prince dropped the first fish in front of Thanatos he snatched and gobbled it up like he was on the brink of starving. Within minutes he had devoured three more, and, to Henry’s relief, seemed too taken up to notice the exiled prince wasn’t eating, despite having claimed to be hungry.

“Hey, did they not feed you anything or what?”, he grinned as he stuck Mys back into its sheath.

“The food was sparse and tasteless.”

The exiled prince didn’t bother asking for details. Instead, he went on going over the stuff he had received from the spinners and allowed the flier some quiet. To his own surprise, he felt like there was nothing that needed to be said, in this moment. Somehow, just being back together was enough.

The next ten or so minutes they spent silently at each other’s side, then Thanatos raised his voice first – “I had thought myself dead the moment the Sicix captured me.” He took a deep breath, “I never believed you would even attempt to come for me.”

“Oh, come on, how little faith do you have in me?” Henry elbowed him and the flier shot him a glare from half-closed eyes. “None...?”

They both broke into laughter, even if that of Thanatos was somewhat hoarse. There it was, the overwhelming security that had evaded him as long as the flier had been absent. Now Henry felt it flooding him again, and for the first time in what had amounted to two weeks, he could completely relax.

“Fair, fair”, he shook his head. “It’s not like finding you was easy or anything. I mean, how was I supposed to know you angered the slimers – THE SLIMERS – so much they’d hire someone to capture you?” Thanatos only rolled his eyes.

“So what was it?”, this time Henry remained insistent. “What in the world was your unfinished business with them?”

The flier stared at him, somewhat reluctantly. “That was so long ago I had almost forgotten myself, to be honest.” He shook his head. “Resentful bunch, those slimers. And tenacious. Bore a grudge for over half a decade.”

The flier shifted and sighed, “You see, I may or may not have... agreed to help a group of shiners move to the Firelands when the slimers had declared war on them, some five or six years ago. I thought I could find a safe and quiet place to live where they had formerly resided, but instead, the slimers occupied all of it. So essentially, it was pointless anyway.”

“You helped the shiners? Really? Wait –”, Henry furrowed his brows, “you moved them to the Firelands? Does that mean you... crossed the waterway?” Excitement welled up in him and he thought if there was any flier with the stamina to accomplish that, it was certainly Thanatos.

But the flier shook his head. “Not all of it. Only maybe half the trek. I actually camped close to Regalia on my way.” He shot Henry an accusing glare, “No flier just goes and attempts to cross the waterway, especially with that kind of company.”

“I did wonder how you even survived”, the exiled prince mumbled, attempting to hide his disappointment, “traveling with a bunch of shiners.”

“I successfully pretended to be deaf for the most part, is how.” They both laughed. “Then again, it was only five of them. Originally, they were sent to scout out whether the land was fit to live for their kind, but they ended up liking it so much they never bothered returning. I believe they founded a whole new colony over there. How the rest arranged themselves in the Dead Land, away from the slimers, I have no idea. But somehow, they did. We saw them often enough.”

Henry shook his head. “I’m trying to imagine it, you, over the waterway, with five shiners on your back, incessantly babbling.”

“Sounds about right”, the flier mumbled and rolled over, until he lied, curled up, on the riverbank.

“But... wait, I’ve heard of the supposed war between slimers and shiners. It is widely believed the snails weren’t even aware of it, yet you say they declared war consciously?” Henry tilted his head, thinking the flier had never looked so little threatening.

“Yes, that is a common misconception, resulting from the lacking resistance on the shiners’ part”, Thanatos voiced something like a yawn. “The slimers had well enough reason to declare war. A group of young shiners looking for trouble had invaded their home, stolen supplies, and made fun of them relentlessly.”

“Sounds like something I would have done...”, Henry mumbled, and Thanatos hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?”

Before Henry could break into a laughing fit, the flier continued – “Though it ended catastrophically for them. Not long after the slimers declared war, claiming great insult to their people had been committed. The shiners offered to surrender the individuals who had taken part in the offense only, but even after they had been handed over and executed in the slime bath, the snails persistently chased the shiners out of their lands.”

Henry uncomfortably twitched. “So that’s why they bore a grudge against you. Because their quarrel with the shiners was personal.”

“Yes. I hadn’t even known all of this before my trip with the five to the Firelands. But shiners can hardly keep their mouths shut.”

Henry grinned and nodded. “I still find it hard to believe they were so persistent in getting to you though. Even if you helped them, you’re not a shiner.”

“Apparently, their declaration had been to take vengeance on all shiners AND their allies. Also something I found out in retrospect.” Thanatos shook his head. “I would have never agreed to help them, had I known this.”

Henry only nodded.

“To be honest, after all those years, I had nearly forgotten. Shortly after the incident, I made an effort to stay out of the snails’ path, so they probably lost track of me. But some few days before I announced I’d leave the nibbler colony I received a message, claiming they sought to officially end their quarrel with me. I should meet an emissary of theirs at that cliff. And, I guess, we both know how that ended.”

“It was a trap”, Henry concluded and the flier nodded. “I had truly believed I was dead.” He shook his head. “How... HOW did you even think to look for me? How were you able to find me?”

Henry snorted. “It was a damn hassle to find you, alright! I had to take on an entire angry swarm of buzzers to get the flutterers to help me scout out your location.” He began vividly gesticulating, “And those only helped me because I had reinforced my status as “savior of the crawlers” when I prevented that rat invasion on their island by killing the one who led it. A damn former general of Gorger’s, she was! Large and relentless!” Henry sprung to his feet – “And I didn’t even get to use my flaming sword – I’m telling you, Death, that was the hardest battle of my life! She tore my leg open too, but I killed her, of course I did, and then –”

Henry nearly stumbled back into the river from excitement when Thanatos interrupted his torrent of words. “Wow, wow, slow down, will you? I mean I won’t be able to prevent you from telling me every single detail of what happened while I was... absent, but can you at least tell one thing after the other? I am hardly following...”

“Prevent – why prevent? Aren’t you curious at all?” Henry lowered his arms and didn’t even bother hiding his disappointment.

Thanatos hesitated, averting his gaze. “Oh well, maybe a little. Especially as to how you even survived without me, let alone... what was that? Killed a general of Gorger’s?”

The exiled prince sounded a “Ha!” before taking a confident stance, hands on his hips. “Oh please, I was FINE. You know, it turned out I was more capable than both of us thought.” After I’d gotten over that stupid panic attack during my first night, he thought, but of course, didn’t say out loud.

“Actually, I was doing great. I made new friends, found a possible hideout for later – and guess what, I’ve decided to start my own little mercenary service! It’s going really well too – two jobs done so far, both customers were extremely satisfied!”

“You are... wait, did you say MERCENARY?!” The surprise in Thanatos’ voice was audible.

“Yep. And it’s turned out a great way to earn a living in the Dead Land. You know, you take someone out for them, they give you stuff – and you gain experience too. A win-win for both.”

The flier eyed Henry from the corner of his eye and shook his head. This witty, confident, and competent young man before him was supposed to be the same scared and confused boy he had taken in, some half a year ago? As strange as that seemed, Henry had visibly profited greatly from life in exile, in almost every way.

Of course Thanatos burned with curiosity as to what had happened to him, in the last couple weeks, but took care to not let it show. The boy’s ego would certainly not benefit from even more boosting.

Yet still – he remembered how Henry had relished the safety of the nibbler colony, talking of how nothing could ever bring him to go to the Dead Land on his own. And here he now was, evidently very fine with exactly that.

As the flier held his gaze, a thorn of fear suddenly pierced his heart. This “new” Henry, the one he, more than ever, owed his life to now – did he even need him anymore?

Were he to say why he had taken him in, he would have claimed it was as simple as keeping his conscience free of his death. The boy he had taken in had depended on him, in nearly every way. Had he abandoned him, he would have wound up dead within a couple days, surely. And the flier had so many deaths weighing on him he had decided to avoid collecting more.

Yet that wasn’t the case anymore.

The realization hit the flier like a blow to the face and he inevitably asked himself why he was so reluctant to part ways with him still. So... scared of... of what? Of losing him?

A jolt of unease permeated him and he uncomfortably shifted. He had to take care or he would end up getting attached to the boy. That was the last thing he needed, especially after how attachment had ended for him last time.

Yet still, he would rather die in the slime bath than admit it, but a part of him knew he had secretly enjoyed taking care of the boy. He had been alone for so long he had nearly forgotten how it felt to care for someone. But when Henry had come along, everything had changed.

He had not wanted things to change. Not even remotely. In fact, he had done everything in his power to avoid change – but that was apparently not how it worked. Things had changed. To the point where he found he feared losing the boy now.

Thanatos shook his head in agitation. Hell, they had even made a rule specifically to establish a boundary – never should one risk their life for the other. Yet curiously enough, neither of them seemed to take it seriously, even though they had mutually agreed on it.

He would give his life for the boy in an instant, the flier realized, and the thought scared him greatly. Though the reason for that was less emotional than logical – Henry still had a chance. Not at getting his former life back, but at having a life at all. He was young and strong, if someone guided him now and showed him how the world worked, he could grow into a capable, intelligent man, of that much Thanatos was certain by now.

His own life, on the other hand, had ended the moment he had decided to never go back to Regalia, seven years ago. The moment the girl had died. The moment he had failed to save her.

If he could dedicate a portion of his remaining existence to guiding Henry, then that was the best he could still hope for. He knew it was only a matter of time until Henry wouldn’t need him anymore, though he had hoped that day wouldn’t come so soon.

The sole remaining question now was, what he should do. Keep guiding the boy and risk emotional attachment – or leave, in the belief his duty was fulfilled – now that their need for each other wasn’t mutual anymore?

For a moment they were both quiet, then Thanatos asked the one question Henry had feared – “Well, if you’re doing so fantastically on your own, why did you even bother making the effort to look for me?”

The exiled prince hesitated. He had given this more than one thought and finally found an answer – “Because we can profit from each other.”

Thanatos raised his head in surprise, but before he could speak, Henry continued – “We might not have mutual need anymore, but life with each other will be more comfortable than on our own, right?”

From the corner of his eye, he saw the flier stared at him, surprisingly with a hint of new-found respect. Like he knew perfectly well Henry wasn’t the kid who depended on him anymore. That this was not a cry for protection or comfort – it was an offer for an alliance. One that would be between equals, more than it had ever been in the past.

The term “bond” flashed in his mind for a second, but he dismissed it immediately. Such a thing would never happen. He had promised himself he was through with bonds, after how his last one had ended.

“So, what you’re offering is a renewal of our alliance contract?” Thanatos’ voice was firm, yet there was also a hint of doubt in it.

“That is exactly it.” He turned his gaze back on the flier and grinned. “But hey – to make this clear, no more bossing me around or attempting to control me by threatening to leave. You’re not my babysitter, you’re my ally – my equal.” They held each other’s stare for a moment.

“That is my condition”, Henry concluded. “After all, we are completely even now, are we not?”

Thanatos nodded, unwilling, but still. The boy had a point. There was no more even than they were now. But Henry wasn’t done yet. His gaze was firm and unmoving, but benevolent. “I’m not offering this because I need your company – but because I want it.”

The exiled prince had never experienced Thanatos speechless – before today. After a moment of silence, the flier raised his gaze at him. “Well said”, he responded.

And he needn’t say more.


	21. Atonement

* * *

“Oh, come on, can we really not wash this stink off? It’s not that long of a trip to the waterway.” Henry glanced back in the direction longingly, “As you may or may not know, I do NOT enjoy smelling like a whole crate of rotten eggs!”

“Oh, be still, you great master of survival, the stink will at least conceal our presence. As close as we are to the waterway we are to the land of the rats. Or do you ENJOY being smelled out by them?”

Henry groaned but admitted Thanatos had a point. Even if not out loud. “Let’s land regardless, I’m hungry.”

The flier laughed. “Who did you whine to while I was absent? Or did you preserve it all for me?”

Henry flicked at his ear for that and Thanatos performed an air roll, catching the exiled prince so off-guard he nearly fell. “Hey, if you want me to fall off, you’ll have to do better than that!”, he mocked, but all Thanatos did was jet out of the tunnel into a vast cave and land at the bank of the river that boarded the place where they had stayed during their first month in the Dead Land. The sight, at this point, felt so familiar Henry thought they’d somehow always end up here.

He was still grinning ear to ear as he dismounted and kneeled at the bank, to refill both his water bags. From the corner of his eye, he saw Thanatos glared at him before turning to catch fish to eat.

The flier had recovered well, the exiled prince smiled as he stored one of the bags and emptied the other into his pot. He had not continued his tally, so he knew not how much time exactly had passed. All he knew was that, ever since a week or so ago, he had not needed to come up with excuses to take breaks and prevent Thanatos from over-exerting himself anymore. Were he to estimate, he’d say it must have been around two weeks, more or less.

Maybe a day after they had joined up again, they had decided to travel back to the nibbler colony. They’d had catching up to do, and Henry was itching to consult with Teslas about possible new upgrades and tweaks to his existing equipment.

Everyone back in the jungle had rejoiced at their arrival, even if they hadn’t been absent for long. Lovelace had instantly announced a celebration and Teslas had immediately dragged Henry back into his workshop for chores and experiments. “He is mine, you can’t have him. Not now, not in a long time”, he had announced, and that had been that.

They had not stayed for long this time, three or four days only. It had sufficed for sharing stories as well as trading some goods.

He had also decided to give Teslas the buzzer venom he had siphoned, as he had little to do with it, and the inventor had rejoiced. Apparently, it was an extremely rare and valuable good. In return, Teslas had provided Henry with various upgrades he had worked out in his absence.

The inventor had taken a single dismissive glance at his slingshot, which – admittedly – was in bad shape from frequent use and exposure to water, tossed it into a corner, and presented him with an upgraded version. The model Teslas had designed used a fork-shaped frame of bone for more power and stability and stronger leather. Henry also needed not to twirl it to fire anymore, which greatly increased the accuracy.

And then there was the upgrade to the ignifer. The nibbler had claimed to have spent most of his time improving the formula, with focus on shortening the amount of time it took to apply, as that was the biggest issue with it. Henry’s battle against Goldfang had proven that well enough.

The prototype he had given the exiled prince to test was a compact construct, to be fastened around the hilt and top part of the blade, that you loaded with a maximum of three little wax pellets filled with ignifer. Once loaded, you simply pulled a leaver and the mechanism dispersed the ignifying substance automatically.

Further, Teslas announced you could now ignite the sword by grating one of the fire stones against the prepped blade itself, instead of having to use both stones. “I’ll build an automated igniter in next time, promise”, Teslas claimed and laughed, “had you stayed absent for longer, you might have gotten it immediately.”

Henry was so excited over the, by all means significant, upgrade he could barely keep himself from trying it out multiple times. But even though Teslas had also provided him with a whole mid-sized barrel of ignifer-pellets, he decided it was not smart to waste any.

The days at the colony had been happy and a necessary break, but to his own surprise, Henry felt he wished not to stay any longer. Not anymore. He remembered a time when he had considered permanently moving in with the nibblers, when he’d had a hard time imagining he would ever want to leave. Now his own thirst for adventure had begun nagging at him, only a couple days in.

“It’s sort of a sanctuary, a place for a break whenever we find we need one”, he had remarked to Thanatos regarding the colony, the evening before they had left. “But I don’t feel like staying any longer now.”

Not much else had needed to be said.

And then, maybe a week after they had arrived back in the Dead Land, they had encountered a group of crawlers in search of their Wielder of Light. They had just stood in the entrance to their cave one day, asking for their services.

Word of his victories against Goldfang and the buzzers had apparently spread like a wildfire, and every single crawler in the Underland seemed to know his services were up for purchase now – with a, so far, hundred percent success rate. Though those particular individuals had had a different kind of job for him, from the ones he had completed so far.

When they asked if he was willing to venture to the gnawers’ land to rescue some of their kind who had been taken prisoner, for the usual reward of course, Henry hadn’t hesitated for a second. He thought it would be beyond stupid to limit himself to working as an assassin only, and as long as the reward was right, a rescue job was as much a source of experience as any other.

He had officially offered Thanatos to join his business and the flier had acted surprised, even somewhat offended, that he even had to ask – so they had soon departed. The crawlers had been held in the same arena the two of them had fought Sizzleblood in, all those months ago, and they had nearly gotten caught again. Only thanks to Henry’s slingshot they had escaped, and swiftly returned the crawlers to their colony.

Now, after collecting their reward, they had decided to make their way back south, to find somewhere to make a camp, and had unfortunately stumbled into a tunnel system that reeked of Sulphur in the process.

Though they had eventually found their way out again, both rider and flier now stank of the substance. Yet as close to the border of the rat’s land as the system had led them, Henry thought Thanatos was right when he said it was best to leave it on for now. Who knew how persistent Splintleg and his friends were, in their pursuit?

“So, what do you want to do now? Look for more jobs – or take a short break? Because while that was fun, Splintleg might still be looking for us.” Henry placed his torch into a device Teslas had given him, that allowed it to stand on the floor. It could almost pass as a campfire now.

“Eh, a break sounds nice. How about you finally show me that crawler island you’ve been talking so much about? We could loot the stash you –”, Thanatos interrupted himself mid-sentence and raised his head. Henry froze as well, he knew very well what that expression meant, by this point.

He needed not to think about what to do next, he instinctively darted over to the torch and pulled the lever to extinguish the flame. It went out in an angry hiss, and the exiled prince grabbed it and the device, with one, and his backpack with the other hand, before mounting up. Thanatos was in the air only heartbeats later.

The flier rose until he flew circles at the top of the cave, and Henry had to bend over to not hit his head on the ceiling. Luckily, it was almost seventy feet high, not even the imminent rats the flier had heard could jump that.

“How many?”, Henry whispered into the flier’s ear.

“Two, and they are heading our way.”

Henry suppressed to ask whether any familiars were among them. Had Splintleg caught up to them after all? It mattered little who it was though. In the dark, they could easily escape, with how the Sulphur still covered their scent. How infinitely glad Henry found himself he had actually listened to Thanatos this time.

Yet the flier made no attempt to dive into any tunnel. Just as Henry had leaned forward and opened his mouth again to ask why, he heard a voice that had him turn to stone on the spot –

“And I am telling you, it will only be half as bad as you think. Okay, maybe not, but you are certainly overreacting. Now move your hide along, we don’t want to keep the Regalians and the warrior waiting, do we?”

Henry clutched Thanatos’ fur much harder than he had to, his mind reeling with the single question of what in the world RIPRED was doing here. Despite the utter darkness, the image of the huge, scarred rat flashed before his inner eye and he instinctively ducked, combatting the irrational fear the rat might spot him somehow.

Thanatos circled above the rats, then dove into a niche, some sixty feet above ground.

“It’s Ripred!”, Henry whispered, not daring to mount down as he saw nothing, and feared to be heard if he snapped his fingers to use echolocation.

“I know. Be quiet.” The flier’s ears were pointed and his body tense as he stared down to the floor. Only now Henry carefully inched off his back, until he cowered in the niche next to Thanatos.

“Oh, come on, if you move any slower they will depart before we – ARGH, when will this incessant stink at last disintegrate? We’ve left the Sulphur-caves behind ages ago! Or does my memory play tricks on me because a minute in your company feels like an hour?”

Henry leaned forward instinctively, despite being utterly blind in the dark. Who was Ripred talking to?

“It has”, a second voice sounded, much quieter and a few pitches higher than Ripred’s. “This smell comes not from the caves.”

The exiled prince froze. What was that supposed to mean? Had they somehow been found out?

“Oh –? Is that so?”, Ripred snarled in response, “Well, dear Twitchtip, then please be so kind and SHARE with me where the stink comes from so that I can TAKE CARE of it!”

“Up there! They are hiding up there!”

Henry instinctively retreated back into the niche and swallowed a lump. Even though he couldn’t see, he would have bet Mys she was pointing in their direction.

“Up THERE? How would anyone even get up there?”

“It is a human and a flier, that’s how”, the female rat – apparently Twitchtip – hissed, “One of each, both male, though the human appears barely more than a pup...”

Henry’s heart sunk at once and he had to breathe consciously to prevent hyperventilating. Who in the world was that rat, and how was she doing that? He knew the gnawers’ sense of smell was unrivaled, but any sort of strong cover-up like blood or Sulphur usually sufficed to fool it.

And for what it was worth – Ripred hadn’t smelled them, so the fault could not lie with them.

“A human and a flier?!”, Ripred snorted. Then, he started yelling, presumably in their direction – “Hey, if you guys are spies from Regalia, tell your friends I am ON MY WAY! They do not need to send me babysitters, but this traveling companion is not the easiest to deal with!” He audibly smacked the other rat and she gave a pained whimper.

Henry’s gaze searched for Thanatos – what were they to do, he attempted to ask silently, escape? Or was it too late now?

He saw the flier only as a murky silhouette, yet he made out the shake of his head. There was no escape – not now. All they could do was sit idle and listen.

And apparently, the female rat wasn’t done yet. “Oh no, Ripred, they are not from Regalia”, she audibly dragged her claw on the stone floor, “they came from the direction, but not quite that far. They smell of crawlers, and of the Dead Land. There is also a hint of jungle... but they haven’t spent much time there, at least not recently. Though they were in the gnawers’ land as well. But no trace of other humans!”

“What?” Ripred sounded even more surprised and turned his head upward again. “HEY! Whoever you are, come the hell down here and show yourselves, instead of hiding like cowards!”

“Gah...”, Twitchtip groaned, like the loud noise irritated her, “They are armed... a sword, he has, the pup, and a slingshot, yes, it is a slingshot. And a different weapon, I have never encountered its kind...”, she sounded a loud sniff, “it is a form of... knife or... dagger, I think, but the material is unique... I can not put it into words, can not put, put...” She didn’t finish her own sentence, only fell into a quiet whimper.

Ripred cared little about her apparent distress. “What?” He audibly lashed his tail at her and Twitchtip voiced a shriek – “Speak on, for the good of us all! What kind of dagger he carries is irrelevant, all that interests me is who they are!”

Despite Ripred’s impatience, Twitchtip hesitated. “He, the pup, he has... long hair, he recently washed and shaved, in a river, and the flier, he is...”, another sniff, “b... black!”, she finally barked out, “Black, with... with... a white stain, yes, a white stain... on his face!”

Henry’s head was spinning, he barely kept himself sitting. Only in his periphery he registered Ripred’s surprised “What?!” His mind was preoccupied with questions, what... what WAS this rat? How was she doing that?

“I’ll go. You stay.” Thanatos’ voice next to him disrupted his thoughts. Before Henry could protest or ask why he wanted to show himself, the flier had already spread his wings.

Then again, if anyone was to go down there, he did not want it to be him. He cared little for Ripred learning he was alive, especially if they were headed to Regalia. Wait – Regalia? What would Ripred be doing there, with this... this other rat? This rat who could... could what? SMELL... colors?

“Find out why they are going to Regalia!”, he hastily hissed and Thanatos gave a nod before leaping down.

Henry steadied himself in the entrance and finally dared to snap his fingers. By their sharp sound, he perceived the rats as clear silhouettes. Ripred, a looming figure, on his hind legs, Twitchtip cowering behind him on all fours, she seemed to be pressing her nose into the floor. Then the silent fluttering of Thanatos’ wings as he landed, a few paces ahead of the rats.

“Ah, so it truly is you – Thanatos. Of course there is only one flier fitting that vivid description Twitchtip gave”, Ripred voiced a dry laugh. “I mean, I would say it is good to see you alive, then again, I would have been more surprised to learn of your death.”

Henry was confused by their apparent familiarity with each other, then he remembered Thanatos speaking of Ripred, back when he had confessed to have attempted to kill him. He tilted his head, trying to imagine them as allies, and to his own surprise found they fit well together. Bitter, grumpy social outcasts with sharp tongues and control-freak tendencies, as they were.

“It is good to see you Ripred, it’s been a while. You bring a friend?”

“As have you, it almost seems. Well, where is your new human companion – is he too scared to come out?”

Henry clenched his fist. The rat hadn’t even laid eyes on him and he already felt the familiar desire to stick his sword up his gloating throat. But he was sixty feet above ground, and nowhere near the skill level to even draw his weapon against Ripred. That had been the first thing the grey gnawer had taught him – the hard way, too.

Henry once again found the rat’s words replaying in his head – _Take care, lad, or you shall end up like me, stripped of any respectable rank and warming your shabby old hide at the fire of your enemies._

Some day, he thought, gripping his own wrist and recalling the throbbing pain when Ripred had struck him, some day you’ll realize your prophecy came true – and with all your might you will wish it hadn’t.

“Oh, he’s not scared”, only as Thanatos spoke, the exiled prince listened up again, “but why should he bother with you? Nothing I can’t handle alone.” Henry’s mouth curved into a smile. That’s right, show him for insulting me, he cheered internally.

Ripred laughed. “Well, if there is anyone out there who can take me, I shall be glad it is you. Though, more curious than it is to find you alive, it is to find you in the company of a human again. After what happened to Arya – didn’t we mutually agree she was the only human who could ever stand your company?”

Before Henry could properly ask himself what the rat was talking about and who Arya was, Thanatos hissed angrily – “And we also agreed the past is the past, Ripred. Or do you want me to start delving into yours?”

The scarred gnawer laughed. “Well, alright, alright. If your new friend wants to stay hidden, he shall do so.” He pondered for a moment, “Where did you even find this human in the Dead Land? You’re making me curious.”

“Well, STAY curious. It’s not like me to reveal secrets, as you certainly remember.”

“Alright, alright, keep your secrets”, the rat laughed “no need to get all worked up about it. Why don’t we come to the point where you tell me what the hell you are doing here instead?”

“Well, for one, I LIVE here”, Thanatos scoffed and Henry barely prevented a laugh. “Is it so hard to believe I simply happened to have crossed your path and welcomed the chance to say hello to an old friend? And, of course, find out what drives you to Regalia, of all places – with this company.”

“Oh”, Ripred voiced, “Well, as welcome as your company is – since when have you become so curious? I do not remember you ever showing interest in what wanders in or out of Regalia, these days.”

Thanatos hesitated for a moment – “You mentioned the warrior earlier. The Overlander? Does that mean one of Sandwich’s prophecies has come upon us? If so, it would be good to know – some speak of great evil affecting the entire Underland, if my memory doesn’t fail me.”

Henry had to internally applaud Thanatos for his quick thinking. Up until now, he hadn’t even registered Ripred had mentioned Gregor and inevitably peeked his own ears, curious for the rat’s response.

“Oh... did I say warrior? Really?”, Ripred pondered. “Well, maybe I did. And maybe... a prophecy is indeed upon us.”

“And you head there to join the quest for it?”

Henry furrowed his brows, thinking Thanatos was overstepping. He had no apparent reason to know a prophecy inevitably called for a quest.

Ripred caught on as well – “You seem to know a great deal about how these things work.” He pondered for a moment, presumably contemplating whether it was worth asking before apparently deciding against it – “But whatever your source is – no, I’m not joining. She is.” He pointed at the other rat who had retreated to the wall, at Thanatos’ arrival, fervently burying her nose in a tight crack.

“And the humans will allow that?”, Thanatos asked what Henry had instantly wondered as well. Was she one of his allies? Did Vikus know her as he did Ripred?

“Your curiosity today knows no boundaries, does it now? I’ll say this much, they will – they need her. And now, we shall be on our way. Come, Twitchtip”, his claws scraped on the floor as he moved.

To Henry’s surprise, Thanatos leaped up and blocked their way, spreading his gigantic wings. “HALT! What prophecy is it? Is there reason to worry?”

Ripred hissed, visibly unhappy with the prolonged holdup, and Twitchtip, who had already stepped away from the wall, shrieked in surprise. “Even you should learn to not anger me needlessly”, the scarred rat snarled, “but fine, if you let us continue at last, I will tell you what has come upon us.”

He paused and snorted, “I am somewhat surprised you haven’t heard of it yet. Yes, Snare conceals him well, but for someone as well-informed as you – or have you been letting up recently?” Ripred waited not for a response. “The Bane, Thanatos – it is the Bane! The warrior has come to kill him, and she will help – if she still wishes to stay with me only, of course.”

“I want to go back.”

Thanatos’ head jolted up as Henry disrupted the silence they had spent the last ten minutes in. After Ripred and Twitchtip had moved on, they had returned to their previous resting spot, but not spoken much. Henry felt like Ripred had already said everything.

“What?” The flier anxiously flapped his wings. “What the hell are you talking about? Go back where? For what?”

The exiled prince twitched. “I...” He searched for words to describe the utter chaos in his head but found none.

Another quest. Gregor was back – however they had managed that – and they would go out on an adventure again, all his friends and family.

Henry attempted to recall the wording of the Prophecy of Bane. Its words were not as familiar to him as those of the Prophecy of Gray as he hadn’t studied it in a while. All he remembered was that the Bane was this legendary white rat, born only once a century, and that the prophecy called for the warrior to drain its light – to kill it.

He could have sworn there had been something about a baby too, but he failed to recall the context so he dismissed it. A baby didn’t exactly fit the tone of the prophecy anyway.

A quest, he pondered. A quest to kill the white rat. Gregor would have to go, his sister most likely as well – maybe that’s where he’d gotten the baby from.

The first Underlander on his mind was Luxa, there was no way she would miss this, with her Aurora. Solovet and Ajax maybe, Mareth and Andromeda. The names began clogging his head and Henry felt the desire to be back there, embarking on an adventure with them all once more, spreading through his body like burning fire, eating up everything in its way. His place was with them. Hadn’t he done what he had done, he would certainly have come along. One way or another, he would have.

Henry felt the desire turn to anger. How dare they go on a quest without him, he thought, fully aware there was no rational justification to hold it against them. Still, it was not fair, he shook his head to quiet the thoughts. “I have to.” The words slipped from his mouth without his consent.

Apparently, Thanatos had guessed what he was referring to. “Henry, this is foolish, and you know that. You can never go back. They would arrest you, execute you.”

For some reason, the flier’s words burned like acid. He was perfectly aware of their truth, but hearing it like this, from an outsider, had his guts writhe in protest. Henry opened his mouth to fire back when he suddenly realized something. “They will only arrest me... if they recognize me, right? You know, what if...?”

“Oh no no no, don’t even get me started.” Thanatos’ amber gaze was accusing. “No matter how, you are not returning to Regalia, I will not allow it. It’s suicide!”

“Hey, you didn’t even let me finish!”

“Because I know what you will say”, the flier hissed, “You will suggest to disguise yourself and follow them in secret – but regardless, it is suicide. Even if they don’t recognize you as Henry, they will recognize you as an outcast. Under those circumstances – and you know your familiars better than I – do you truly think anyone will welcome you or any offered help from you with open arms?”

Henry forcefully swallowed the lump of anger in his throat. Sure, it was more a vague idea than an actual plan at this point, but a part of him knew he would do this, regardless of what Thanatos said. It was like knowing he would have come on the quest, one way or another, had he not committed treason.

There were just some things set in stone. Like the words of a prophecy, but fueled by determination, not foresight.

“I’ll see soon enough.”

It was all chaos in his mind, that night. They had, for lack of better options, returned to the river to search for a camp to spend the night, and Thanatos had convinced Henry to sleep over it at least, yet sleep wouldn’t come to him.

His own rules writhed in his mind – think not of the past, not of places, not of people, of situations, of things – but as much as he tried to lock them out, now he found he could not anymore.

It was like hearing actual news from Regalia had turned it into more than the distant memory it had been so far. Now it was a real place again, a place that harbored things he yearned to be part of.

His common sense knew Thanatos was right. It would verge on suicide to even think of going back, but, at the same time, how could he not?

“If you lied still for a SECOND, you might even fall asleep, you know?”

Henry groaned at the flier’s voice disrupting his thoughts and opened his eyes. “No, I don’t think I can sleep. Not now.”

To his surprise, Thanatos leaped from where he had been hanging to keep watch, landing only inches in front of the exiled prince. “Alright”, he sounded surprisingly resolute. “What is the issue? Explain.”

Henry blinked a couple times, before slowly sitting up. “You know the issue”, he mumbled.

“Yes. I mean no. I mean –”, Thanatos shook his head, “I know this is still about the quest, about Regalia, what I don’t know is why it is such a big deal. Never were you so set on going back.” Henry felt his incessant stare burning holes into him. “So, what changed?”

Henry grabbed hold of a pebble and began scraping it on the floor. “I...”, he took a deep breath and desperately attempted to put his chaotic thoughts into words. “I... I DON’T KNOW MYSELF, okay?!”, he, at last, exclaimed, flinging the stone at the neighboring wall. “I DON’T know”, he repeated quieter. “All I know is, something changed. Something in the way I perceive Regalia and its citizens, I think.”

Thanatos remained silent and Henry angrily clenched his teeth. “Listen, I was never great at knowing what I want, okay? I do things on whims, or because they seem logical – or for plain fun. Yet when I begin asking myself what it is I really want to do with my life or myself, I seldom get a response. Now less than ever.”

Henry continuously stared at the floor. “My point is”, he barely suppressed the shaking in his voice, “I don’t know WHY I do or feel things. I just know that I do. And right now I know I have to do this. That this”, he hesitated, “is what I... want. Period.”

Thanatos was silent for so long Henry was on the brink of giving up on ever receiving a response when he finally spoke – “What will it gain you?”

The exiled prince was so perplexed at the question he even looked up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean”, the flier hesitated, “the key to figuring out why we want or do something usually lies in asking ourselves what it will gain us. So, what will it gain you? Or more specifically, what do you think it will gain you? To go back? To do... whatever it is you want to do.”

Henry blinked at him, somewhat surprised at the mix of pensiveness and worry in his eyes. Fueled by Thanatos’ honest attempt to help he gave it a serious thought.

The flier watched Henry with interest and concern, and was caught off-guard by the amount of bitter resolve in his voice when the boy spoke – “It’s... I’m doing this... for me.”

At the confused tilt of the flier’s head he continued, Thanatos thought his words were carefully chosen for once.

“In their eyes, I am dead. Worse even, I would hardly be mourned or wanted back. So what I get out of this”, he took a deep breath and rose to his feet, “is to... prove I am more than that. More than what they would remember me for – the worthless, foolish traitor. More than... more than this one shitty mistake that ended up sealing my fate.” He angrily furrowed his brows, “Actually, no, that’s exactly it – I REFUSE to let it seal my fate! I refuse to give up on them as they gave up on me! You hear? I won’t have it!”

Henry’s words struck Thanatos like a blow to the face. He had no idea what he had expected, but certainly not anything like this. Not from the boy.

A thorn of guilt pierced his heart, had he also prematurely judged him? Boxed him in as unable to ever learn?

He had learned already, Thanatos thought, so much more than anyone, most likely even he himself, had ever anticipated. “I see...”, the flier pondered, “but Henry, how can you prove all that if they can not learn your identity regardless?”

“That’s not the point!”, the boy hissed, to his surprise. “This is not about them, Death! It’s about ME! A damn clueless, weak, and scared traitor is not all there is to me, and I will prove that. At any cost.”

Thanatos allowed the words to sink in. He is trying to make peace with the past, not in the eyes of his former people, but in his own. He is willing to risk his life to confront his past and seek atonement, to prove his own worth.

An unexpected wave of respect towards the boy hit Thanatos. He’s been an outcast for barely six months, and he already seeks a way to face his past, while I have been running from mine for seven entire years.

But in that case, as foolish as it seemed, did he even have the right to deny him this?

“_The last who will die must decide where he stands._”

Thanatos’ gaze darted up at the familiar line.

“Remember?”, the amount of grim resolve in Henry’s eyes almost frightened the flier, “You once said, back when you deciphered the Prophecy of Gray, that my predestined path led me out here, that there is still some sort of choice for me to make. That this line referred not to my standing with the rats, that I must still... _decide where I stand. _Well”, he gave a snort, “so I’ve decided.”

Henry watched the flier carefully, as well as he could in the dim light from the river. He knew not what to expect, in fact, he knew little at that point. Not what exactly he wanted to do, nor how he would get there. All he knew was that his decision was made.

“You truly love them so much you are willing to risk this?”, the flier at last spoke. Henry bit his lip yet held his gaze. “What do you think?”

“Why... did you betray them, then?”

Henry widened his eyes and his head jerked up, the question caught him off-guard. “W... what?”

“You understood me just fine.” Despite his words, Thanatos’ voice was not accusing or hostile, all Henry heard in it was genuine curiosity.

“I...”, he averted his gaze to the floor. “I made a mistake.” He had avoided dwelling on it for the longest time, ever since his first night as an outcast, yet now Henry found the questions from back then resurfacing. He had made a mistake – what mistake? The mistake to believe rats and humans could ever be allies? The mistake to trust Gorger? Tonguetwist?

The thought of her had a lump rise in his throat and he instantly decided he would not talk to Thanatos about her. Never would he admit to having fallen for the lies of a rat so foolishly.

“They... they promised an end to the conflict between our species if I helped them capture Gregor – the Overland-warrior, I mean”, he hesitantly admitted. “Like, that was essentially all I did. Exchange the life of a single stranger to end a century-old war.” Henry bit his lip. “It seemed... worth it, at the time.”

Thanatos remained silent for a while. “I see”, he finally mumbled, “though I remember hearing Gorger promising you power and recognition also.”

The exiled prince narrowed his eyes, recalling the flier had pried into his personal business back then. “Perhaps!”, he shot back and scoffed, “Yet I never intended to harm them – my family, my friends! Not really!”

“Oh, I can imagine. You surely were so naive to believe Gorger when he said no harm would come upon any of them.”

“Shut up!”, Henry cried, inevitably taken back to his countless hours of feeling torn about exactly this. He clenched his fist tighter. Had he... ever been that naive? Or had he forced himself to not think about it too much, in fear he would come to a conclusion he would not like? “It hardly matters now!” He raised his gaze again. “The past is the past. I’m not in the mood to talk about it now.”

“Is it not the whole reason you wish to do this?”

“It’s none of your business, is what it is!” Henry slowly but surely felt frustration welling up in him. “You pried into it without my consent back then, if I remember correctly!”

“Well, how was I supposed to agree to an alliance with someone I knew nothing about?” The flier’s eyes were narrow, amber slits.

“The same way I did!”

Thanatos’ eyes instantly widened again and he sat straight.

“That’s right!”, Henry put his hands to his hips, glaring up at the flier. “You pried into my past, yet what do I even know about you – to this day? You made it very clear back then you wished not to talk about it, and I respected that. So be so kind and return the courtesy, won’t you?”

Thanatos actually averted his gaze. “You... I did not consider that.”

“Of course not”, Henry shrugged and snorted. “Listen, it’s whatever, okay? I can not change what I did back then – but what I can do, is attempt to make things right. In their eyes as well as in my own – I decide where I stand.” He took a deep breath. “And that is why I want to do this.”

Thanatos was silent for so long Henry almost gave up hope on ever receiving an answer, when he at last spoke – “And what exactly is your plan, then?”

Henry’s eyes widened in surprise and he stared at the flier, attempting to process he had not rejected his decision anymore. Had that... actually worked? Then again, the exiled prince had no answer to his question. “I... well...” Henry stuck his thumbs into his belt and twitched, “plans are for people who can’t improvise, right?”

The flier sighed and shook his head. “And I was just beginning to get used to the thought you’ve matured past your airhead phase. Listen, if we’re actually DOING this, we’ll NEED a plan. More than a plan. Much more.”

The exiled prince kicked a pebble at him. “Oh, shut up. How can I even make a plan if I have so little information? All I want is to journey in the direction of Regalia and – wait”, he froze in his tracks and stared up at Thanatos, “did you just say “we”?”

The flier gave a pained sigh. “I can hardly allow you to run into certain death by yourself, can I?”

Henry felt a wide grin spread on his face. “Of course not!” For once it was him who got to mock, “We can only ever run into certain death together, as we do!”

Thanatos groaned even louder. “As... we do.”


	22. Waterway

“We only go to scout out what is happening, no needless risks, you hear?” Henry groaned as the flier repeated the phrase for what felt like the hundredth time. “Didn’t you say something about running into certain death together?”, he whined, squinting his eyes against the absolute darkness ahead.

“What I said is up for interpretation.”

The exiled prince groaned, leaning forward on the flier’s back impatiently. “Is it far still? We’ll miss their departure if we keep at this pace!”

“Henry, I can not help the composition of the tunnels, nor my own wingspan. This is the fastest route to Regalia, and your incessant pestering does not make it any faster. Period.”

Henry rolled his eyes and deliberately ignored Thanatos’ “It’s almost like traveling with the shiners all over again.”

They had departed immediately after the flier had gotten some rest, stopping only briefly, to wash off the sulfur-stink, but the trek to Regalia had turned out longer than Henry had anticipated. They had to take lengthy detours to avoid narrow tunnels and of course the land of the fliers that lied on the way. He estimated they had been in the air for around twelve hours now, and slowly but surely began worrying the quest would depart before they arrived.

Just as Henry attempted to calculate how great Ripred’s headstart had been and how much faster he and Twitchtip would be, due to their smaller size, Thanatos flew out of a long, winding tunnel into a vast cave.

The sight, though anticipated, hit the exiled prince like a blow to the face. His vision blurred at the distant sight of an artificial wall, visible only by the evenly spaced braziers mounted on it. He suddenly felt like someone had reached into his chest and closed their hand around his heart, squeezing it together with all their might.

Henry angrily blinked the tears away and averted his gaze. He could not afford to get sentimental now. Then again, hadn’t he agreed to come here, specifically because of his own stupid sentimentality?

The exiled prince forcefully swallowed the lump in his throat and thought of how often he had seen this same view, always associating it with the positive emotion of returning home. Always on the back of a different flier, in the company of different friends. Now, he had to combat the thought of his own foolishness, for having gambled it all away.

He was spared more misery as Thanatos soon turned from the wall, taking a path that would conceal him from the eyes of the guards instead. As soon as the flier dove into a tunnel again, Henry eased up. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to come here, after all – if he had a hard time standing even the sight of the wall, what would happen once he was faced with the rest?

Angrily, he began tugging at his sword belt. This was hardly a time to change his mind. It had been his own damn decision to come, and he would stick with it. He had decided, and so it would happen.

When Thanatos at last landed, Henry found himself staring down into a fast-streaming – and awfully familiar – river, some fifty feet below the surprisingly spacious cave.

“How about you hole up in here and keep quiet while I go and scout a little? It’s dangerous for you to come any closer to the city.” Thanatos turned from him as soon as the exiled prince had mounted down.

“Hey!”, he cried, running a few paces after the flier until he hovered in the exit, “Can you at least catch me something to eat first? I can hardly do it myself from up here!”

Thanatos shot him a look that screamed “seriously?” but dove down moments later.

The fish the flier flung at him without landing hit Henry directly in the chest and he screamed, then broke into laughter. “Don’t take TOO long!”

Thanatos deliberately ignored him and made off upstream, towards the city. Towards... no, not home, he barely stopped himself from thinking it. Not anymore.

“Henry!” The exiled prince jolted up as he was violently shaken awake. For a moment he stared into Thanatos’ white face in confusion, before it dawned on him he must have fallen asleep.

“Come on, I wasn’t gone for that long, was I?”, the flier growled as he made his way past the drowsy prince further into the cave. “And is it really smart to fall asleep at the ENTRANCE, of all places? What if a patrol had flown past and spotted you?”

“What do you mean, you weren’t gone for that long?” Henry rubbed his eyes and yawned. “You were gone for like... what, half a day?!”

Not long after the flier had made off, he had grilled the fish he had caught for him and taken to sit by the entrance, feet dangling from the ledge. He had been pleased to see his stupid phobia of heights had let up, at least so much he felt no fear at the sight of the river below.

I must have fallen asleep at some point, Henry thought, struggling to get to his feet. “I hope you at least have something good for me!”, he whined, “with how long you were gone and all!”

Thanatos had retreated to the far end of the cave and curled up on the floor, giving a long yawn as well. “Oh, I do. An old moth friend of mine lives in a cave nearby, she is acquainted with the shiners they hired to accompany the quest. She told me they told her everything.”

“And what is that?”

“Well, I have good and bad news.” The flier closed his eyes, “The bad news is, they left some half a day ago.”

Henry’s heart sunk. Of course, they had taken too damn long. “And... the good?”

“The good news is, you won’t have to arduously decide or feel conflicted about whether to follow them in secret. They decided for you.”

All Henry did was furrow his brows, starting to doubt whether this part of the news was even so good.

“They are taking boats across the waterway.” The flier yawned again. “Apparently, the Bane is in the Labyrinth, the part of the rats’ land south of the Vineyard.”

Henry froze where he stood, allowing the information to sink in. “The boats then...”, he pondered and tilted his head, “okay, but why does that mean I won’t have to decide whether to follow them or not?”

Thanatos groaned. “The waterway, Henry – no flier can cross it in one stretch, that is why they are taking BOATS.”

“Well, actually...”, the flier’s eyes narrowed further the wider Henry’s grin became, “... actually, you’re wrong. It is not impossible to fly over the waterway. It’s just that nobody has done it before.”

“Well, that is kind of the deal with impossible things.” Thanatos stared at him with narrowed eyes. “Wait, Henry, you are not implying...?”

When the exiled prince turned to face him again, he knew the flier must have drawn terrible confirmation from the look in his eyes. “Oh, no...” – “I had plans to try it, actually”, the exiled prince cut his protest off. “Back with Ares. We even calculated the time, the route, and all that stuff.” He turned back to Thanatos – “But then we never ended up doing it. Ares always claimed he was up for it – EVENTUALLY – but whenever I wanted to set a date, he drew back. Always had some sort of excuse...”

“Henry you have no idea how incessant my hope is that you are not implying what I think you are implying.”

“Oh, come on!”, the exiled prince exclaimed, taking a stance, “You wanted to do it yourself at some point!”

At the flier’s baffled expression he laughed. “How do I know? Because I KNOW you. And there is NO WAY you NEVER even CONSIDERED it. Not with YOUR impossible levels of stamina.”

Thanatos’ silence spoke for itself.

“Ha!”, Henry exclaimed, “I knew –!” – “OKAY. Okay – I did think of it before”, the flier caved, without looking at him. “Back with the shiners, and okay, maybe even prior to that, I... gave it an honest thought. I’ll admit that much.”

Before he could say a word, Thanatos continued – “But Henry... now?! It would be madness! I can’t... WE can’t just...”, he struggled to find words, “Look, as much as I want to try this someday – that day is not today.”

“And why not?”

There were so many reasons. Even disregarding the physical part, following the quest like that meant having to evade the boats, how would Henry keep an eye on them like he so apparently wanted?

“It would be nothing but a gamble with our both lives”, he uttered, “what do you plan on doing once we’ve reached them? Even if I... COULD cross it, I can hardly hover around and WAIT for them!”

“Well, no...”, Henry hesitated, “but we could... fly ahead, maybe. Wait on the other side or something. Or fly back out to meet them, once you’ve rested.”

“And do WHAT exactly?” The question needed to be answered before Thanatos would commit to any decision.

The boy began stuttering. “I... I... well, I want to...” He turned his gaze away, “I want to keep an eye on them”, he finally spat out, “to take any opportunity that might arise to help. Over the waterway, the chances of being recognized are minuscule, especially if I disguise myself.” He sighed. “I... I just want to SEE them, okay? Just... one last time.”

Thanatos stared at the strained figure of the boy before him, his hanging shoulders, the anxiously furrowed brows. “And you... you are willing to place your own life in my hands, just like that?”

The boy looked up and blinked in confusion. Thanatos almost smiled. “Henry, you speak like I’ve already crossed it, like there is not a chance I will run out of strength and we will both plummet into the water and drown.”

“Run out of strength?”, Henry laughed in utter bewilderment, “You? YOU? Run OUT OF STRENGTH? Ha! Before that ever happens the monsters from the depths will surface to CARRY us across!”

Thanatos couldn’t help but join in the laugh of the boy. His unshakable belief in him was... strange. It had been a while since anyone had believed in him like this. Or at all.

To fly over the waterway... the flier allowed his mind to wander for a short while, how old was that dream? How long ago had the girl uttered it, in nearly the same manner as the boy now?

“Come on”, Henry had more up his sleeve, apparently. “If any flier is destined for it, we both know it is you! The Crosser of the Waterway, they will say. For all my titles, it is about time you gain your first as well!”

“Who even will –”, but Henry undauntedly spoke on – “And honestly, I’ve waited long enough. You too, you say? Let’s not wait anymore. Waiting is for the undecided! You only get things done when you seize the moment. And the moment, Death – the moment is NOW!”

The flier stared at him for a few heartbeats, left speechless. He sensed the confidence and resolve radiating from the boy so intensely he found himself unable to resist. “Okay – you know what?”, he persistently held Henry’s stare, “Tell me – your research results. How long does it take? What’s the best route? Where to start, where to land?”

The boy’s eyes widened in such innocent joy he thought he had hereby basically committed already – “You’re DOING it?!”

“No. NO. I did not say anything like that”, he fervently hoped Henry would not see through his lie. “I... for now, I just want your information. Then I’ll decide.”

“It’s more or less five days with the boat.” Henry pointed at the map of the Underland he had just finished sketching in his notebook. Maybe he should ask if Teslas had an actual one, at some point.

He marked the delta of the river streaming below their cave with a cross, and a spot on the outskirts of the rat’s land, on the other side of the map, with another. “Flying usually divides the time of ground travel by approximately three, so it’s going to be around one and a half days – more or less, depending on the wind, and your own speed. Ares and I came to the conclusion the best estimate is around forty hours.”

Thanatos had taken to sit next to Henry and stared at the map the exiled prince held up in the flickering torchlight. “You realize I have never been in the air for more than a day, right?”

“And did you feel at your limit?”

The flier hesitated, “No, I don’t think so. But forty, compared to twenty-four is a big step.”

“A no is a no, I’ll take it.”

Thanatos snorted, but before he could object further, Henry pointed at the notebook – “We must follow the river to the coast. There I’m assuming you’ll want to rest and gather strength. We can afford to take our time, I believe.” He pondered, “If we depart, let’s say, half a day from now, we’ll catch up to them...”, Henry tapped his chin with the back of his pencil, “what, well into their... third day? Should suffice.”

Thanatos didn’t reply, and the exiled prince noticed he was staring at the floor. “Hey, you okay?” His glance trailed back to his notes, and his grip on the pencil tightened. “Look”, Henry sighed, “I... I know you never really signed up for this. And as much as I know I need to do this – for myself – I can’t... FORCE you. You’d be risking your own life for me – again. And what reason do you really have to help me? We had a rule about this, if I’m not mistaken.”

Thanatos remained silent for so long the exiled prince was on the brink of just asking straight-out when the flier raised his head to look at him – “Into their third day, you say? Should suffice, yes.”

The flight to the border of the waterway took them only around an hour and soon Thanatos flew out above open sea, in search of somewhere to land in the steep cliff that made up the delta of the river.

He soon found a cave, similar to the one Henry had stayed in while he had scouted, about a hundred feet above the foaming sea. The exiled prince mounted down and the flier dove to fish, then they ate dinner.

“Watch the algae in the water”, Thanatos instructed Henry after they had finished their meal, “should I not be awake by the fourth time it brightens, wake me. That will amount to around nine hours. Though, in doubt, wait until you sense the currents have picked up.” With that, he disappeared deeper into the cave to find somewhere to hang, as the ceiling was higher here.

Henry sighed, attempting to make it as comfortable as he could for himself. Nine hours were an awfully long time to sit around idle, but what were nine hours of sleep against forty in the air, he thought, and decided he had not the right to complain. Besides, there were some things he still needed to take care of regardless, and if not now, then never.

Sitting as close to the edge as he felt comfortable, to watch the glow, he dug to the bottom of his backpack and finally pulled out the skull of a rat he had found during their last trip to their land. It had lied around in one of the prison holes, together with the rest of the skeleton, and, on a whim, he had taken it with him.

Henry turned it in his hand for a minute or so, inspecting it closely, and first and foremost washed it thoroughly as it emitted a faint yet unpleasant smell. He then fetched his sword and split the back off, so that only the skeletal face remained. Any otherwise hindering or not aesthetically pleasing parts he removed using Mys, and polished it excessively with the stone he normally used to sharpen his swords.

When he first tried it, he was compelled to increase the size of the eye sockets and it took him a couple tries to get them right, but finally, he stared at the refined half of the rat skull in pride.

A quick string through the earholes and he could, at last, fasten it to his face, grinning ear to ear. What will Thanatos say if I wake him with this thing on? After all – the exiled prince discarded all refuse he had created in the process of making the mask – the flier had a skull mark on his face, why shouldn’t Henry as well?

He had picked up the skull with this very intent, yet the fact that he was now going to see old friends who weren’t supposed to recognize him had speeded up the creating-process.

He had only a vague idea as to why he had wanted a rat skull mask before he had decided to follow the quest – something about the idea had simply intrigued him. And it should also aid him during jobs, to seem more threatening than the sixteen – or was it seventeen already – year-old human he was.

Henry furrowed his brows for a second, had his birthday come and gone yet? He knew it was around this time of year, but found himself unable to tell what day exactly it was. Well, who cared? He decided for himself, by nothing but his own gut instinct – from this day forward, he was seventeen, regardless of the actual date. Period.

Henry spent the rest of the time mostly doodling in his notebook, though he ended up dozing off himself, for what he presumed had been a couple hours. When he woke, the algae was dimmed and he decided to let Thanatos sleep until it had brightened.

To not fall asleep again, he took out his notebook once more and made a first attempt at a design he had in mind for the flier. Like a set of bags for him to strap on and carry, to relieve Henry’s own backpack, and for extra storage in general.

The exiled prince had the rough sketch down when he checked the algae again – and was nearly blown out of the cave by a fierce current. Henry stared at the brightly glowing water and thought there was hardly a better moment to wake Thanatos.

“Well, looks like it’s time.”

The exiled prince jumped at the voice of the flier who appeared behind him, to stare down into the glowing waves as well.

“Yeah”, he mumbled, feeling something like nervous excitement rise in his chest. “Can we eat first though?” The flier darted out of the cave without answering and Henry lit his torch to grill the fish he would catch.

“You ready?”

The exiled prince took up and sealed his backpack, he had decided to take two of the fish with him for the trip as they would be in the air for nearly two days. His other things he had packed away, including the rat skull mask. After short consideration he had decided, as great as it looked, he should only put it on shortly before reaching the boats. There was no way he could ever sleep with it, at least not stomach-down – and he felt not like trying to sleep stomach-up on the back of a bat.

“As I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

The flier spread his wings as Henry mounted up. “Let’s just go. I hope to feel better about this once I’m in the air.”

“Hey, you’ll be fine”, he flicked at Thanatos’ ear and the flier twitched, before, at last, leaping out of the cave.

The current instantly caught and propelled him forward and Henry had to flatten himself out to not be blown off his back. For the first minute or so Thanatos fought a downright battle against the strong winds, it was a crazy up-and-down-and-all-around that even Henry, with all his love for stunt flying, found excessive.

Eventually, the flier managed to catch a good current that carried him seamlessly, out and over the open sea, much faster than he would have been able to fly without it. As he felt Thanatos beneath him relax, Henry knew they were in the clear.

The flier rode the current effortlessly, barely using his wings, and Henry understood why he had wanted to wait for the winds to pick up before they departed. This must allow him to save valuable energy.

Soon after the flier had stabilized, the exiled prince decided to go to sleep. He was exhausted from keeping watch – his short nap from before hardly counted.

He had no idea how long they had flown for when he woke again, but when Henry raised his gaze he saw nothing but foaming waves, in all directions.

“Someone was tired”, the flier mocked, “you slept for almost as long as I before. We’re around a third of the way there.”

“Well, it’s not like I have anything else to do”, was all Henry replied, and soon found himself wishing he had slept for even longer. As it turned out, being awake brought with itself insufferable boredom.

He had not considered he would have to occupy himself during the flight, and the next hour crawled by at slimer’s pace, as he spent it lying on Thanatos’ back, staring holes into the water flying by, and trying hard to come up with something to do. Finally, he decided to eat breakfast – or whatever meal it was. Here, over the open sea, his last bit of feel for the passage of time had vanished into thin air. All he knew was that he was hungry and that eating was at least SOMETHING to do.

The good part was how Thanatos seemed to hold on fairly well. Not a single time he had complained or shown any signs of exertion – then again, that meant little. The Thanatos Henry knew by now would rather allow himself to drown in the depths beneath than to admit he was at his limit.

“Hey, you bored or something?”, the flier soon asked, after Henry had finished his meal and went back to lying down – not bothering to suppress a strained grown.

“You have no idea. There is NOTHING to do except sitting around, waiting for... I’m not even sure what for. And I HATE WAITING!”

“Oh, I’d like to have your problems”, the flier laughed and flew a mellow serpentine.

“How the hell are YOU not –”, Henry interrupted himself as he cried out and barely clung to the flier’s fur when Thanatos suddenly turned sharp-right, as if dodging something. “Hey, what –”, but before he could finish his sentence, the exiled prince caught his first glimpse at exactly what it had been.

He dodged the giant, slimy tentacle that reached for him from below the surface only in the last second. “– SQUIDS!”, he screamed, unsheathing his sword in the same breath. There was no time or real need to ignite it, instead, he began hacking away at the surfacing tentacles.

“They’ve been following us for a while, I think.” Thanatos did his best to do his part in dodging. “I was wondering when they would attack.”

“Less wondering, more height! Fly at the top of the cave, then they can’t reach us!”

Thanatos instantly gained altitude, maneuvering himself out of reach, and leaving behind a couple disappointed and hungry squids. From then on, he stuck to the top of the cave, just in case.

“I always knew the waterway was treacherous, but... squids? Really?” Henry made a face as he attempted to clean his sword from squid-slime.

“You’d be surprised what other creatures lurk down there. Be glad it wasn’t a Leviathan.”

Henry pondered on it for a second, then decided he didn’t necessarily need to know what exactly a Leviathan was. He would deal with it if it indeed attacked – and if it didn’t, he would certainly not complain.

* * *

Gregor stared into the faces of his fellow travelers unbelievingly, trying to comprehend what was going on, what their silence meant.

The great whirlpool was still roaring beneath the boat, held up by all bats again after Pandora had returned with Howard. Gregor’s eyes trailed to his soaked figure, cowering on the floor. Someone had now draped a blanket around his shoulders. Yes, of course, he clenched his teeth in anger. Howard had been saved. But down there, among the grinding waves of the water, was still Twitchtip, desperately clinging to what had remained of the second boat.

Their silence, Gregor now understood, meant they planned not to save her. Not to save her, as Howard had been saved – as anyone would have been saved. Anyone but her.

“It’s because she’s a rat!” He barely recognized his own voice, so much contempt it oozed. “You’re just going to sit here and watch her drown... because she’s a rat!”

Gregor took a step towards the rim of the boat to glance down and winced at the crack Twitchtip’s boat produced as it snapped in two. It was audible even against the deafening roaring of the whirlpool.

He tensed as he watched her desperately clinging to the wreckage before it was swept out of her grasp. The horrified shriek she sounded rang in Gregor’s ears, far more permeating than the vortex. She now desperately clawed her way through the water, fighting to keep from going under, but he knew she wouldn’t last long.

He tore his eyes away from her and found the life jacket – on the floor next to Boots. Her head darted up in surprise when Gregor shoved his arms through the straps and buckled it with shaking hands. The small flashlight, the one Mrs. Cormaci had given him, was in his pocket. Registering the water here emitted not the typical shine, he flicked it on. All the algae had most likely been swallowed or deterred by the vortex, so he would need light. Maybe he could hold the flashlight between his teeth.

He ignored Boots’ confused “Oh?” and in two steps reached the side of the boat. Hands grabbed him as he attempted to climb up – “Do not be a madman, Overlander!” Howard had apparently recovered so much he had realized what Gregor was doing. “You cannot help her!”

“You make me the sickest of all!”, Gregor furiously wiggled out of his grip. “You were down there yourself, a minute ago! You got rescued! And what about what you swore? About saving anyone in water trouble? What about that?!”

Howard’s face flushed and he involuntarily took a step back. It was apparent Gregor had touched a nerve, but he cared little at that moment.

“Gregor!” As soon as Howard had released him, Luxa took his place. “I forbid you to go, Gregor. You will not survive!”

“Not with you guys as backup!” Gregor was so furious he could have thrown her over the side of the boat – see how she liked it down there!

With one firm tug, he ripped his arm out of Luxa’s grip and scrambled up on the side of the boat. “Ripred brought her for me!”, he yelled, “He brought her to help me, so I could help YOU guys and your whole STUPID KINGDOM!”

They glared at each other for a few heartbeats before Gregor turned his gaze down. “That’s why we’re doing this, right?”

The beam of his light hit the grinding waves of water below and despite his determination, Gregor shuddered at the sight. Was he really going to jump down into... that? He had to consciously prevent himself from glancing back. They were right, it was insane. Even if he’d been the best Olympic swimmer in the world, he’d never swim his way out of that. Especially pulling some big-old rat.

He took a deep breath. He had to do this, Gregor thought. To show them. To prove to them they were in the wrong – apart from how they were right when it came to his own chances at surviving this.

But were they really? He knew the Underlanders needed to keep him alive at all costs, they had insisted on that often enough. And that meant if he jumped now, they’d come after him. All he needed to do was get to Twitchtip, and they’d have to save them both.

Well, in theory. Gregor nervously swallowed. What if he overestimated their willingness to risk this mission for him? What if he had misheard? What if – what if he jumped now, and nobody would come?

_We keep each other alive, _Luxa’s words rang in his ears, she had uttered when he had first asked about bonds. Gregor turned his gaze upward to find his bat – if worst came to worst, Ares would come. He would certainly come. He... had to, didn’t he? It was the whole deal. And for the first time, Gregor thought he understood.

He took a firm stance on the side of the boat, searching for Twitchtip with his eyes – and jumped.

The last thing Gregor registered was Howard, yelling after him, but it was too late. The shock of the cold water occupied him for about a millisecond, then all his attention was on the current.

Gregor frantically beat the icy water with his arms, despite the life jacket. He was nothing — a twig, a gum wrapper, an ant, being carried along by the immense force of the whirlpool.

But he had an objective, Gregor forced his wet eyes open, blinking rapidly to empty them of water. There she was, his objective, only a ring away from him, her head bobbing in and out of the water.

His gaze trailed further and met the gaping center of the vortex. It sucked in the water like a voracious mouth – like a black hole, he suddenly thought. His dad had told him about black holes. They had visited the museum together that day, some four or so years ago, there had been a space-themed exhibition and Gregor remembered his dad’s words – _They are masses of immense gravity, so heavy they suck in everything in proximity, even light. That’s why they’re black._

A black hole it was. A black hole that was only one, two rounds away from swallowing Twitchtip. And Gregor after her.

An icy arrow of fear pierced his heart. What had he been thinking? Had he really jumped into this death trap willingly, trusting some people who had shown their true face when refusing to save Twitchtip earlier? And even if they planned on saving him, what if they wouldn’t get to him in time? What if Ares wouldn’t be able to let go of the boat?

Gregor was so occupied with trying not to panic he almost missed Twitchtip who had now noticed him and made a weak attempt to swim in his direction. He shrieked as she grabbed hold of his life jacket and they smacked into each other. Gregor instinctively opened his arms and encircled her neck, his legs wrapped around her body, while Twitchtip dug her claws into the front of the life jacket.

“Don’t – let – go!”, she choked out, Gregor felt her tremble. Never, he wanted to yell, but could only shake his head as he still held the flashlight between his teeth.

He had gotten to her, his head screamed. He had gotten to her. He had done his part. They spun around the whirlpool and the current locked onto them, pulling them down, closer to the black hole, like it consciously refused to let them go. Now everything depended on the others.

Gregor felt every second ten times longer as he waited, hands dug deep into Twitchtip’s fur. Waited for... for them.

With each passing heartbeat his hope dwindled until he found himself a single ring away from the black hole. They can’t do it, Ares can’t do it. Gregor’s teeth painfully dug into the flashlight that now pointed sideways, directly into the mound. We’re going under. We’re going to die.

He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting to be engulfed – instead, he cried out and nearly dropped the flashlight as something painfully dug its claws into his life jacket and shoulder beneath.

No, not Twitchtip – the grip came from above.

One giant tug later they were both out of the water. Gregor dared to peak upward and realized he had been clawed up by a bat. It held not only him but Twitchtip as well – the sole reason he had not dropped her yet.

It must be Ares, he meekly thought and allowed his body to relax in relief, despite the most uncomfortable position he was held in. He must have found a way to let go of the boat and come after us. His plan had worked, Gregor nearly smiled. They had come for them. Both of them.

He barely registered how they were carried over the water until they were out of the whirlpool’s reach. It almost looked like Ares didn’t know where to set them down, and the more he thought about it, the clearer it became that could indeed be a problem. The remaining boat was still suspended by the bats, a hard to nail target, and where else would he...

As they won altitude, Gregor registered with something like surprise that Ares seemed to be struggling with Twitchtip’s weight. He heard his strained heaving, like he had difficulties moving his giant black wings. Gregor frowned. Something about that wasn’t right – Ares could easily carry a rat, and Twitchtip was not even an extremely large one.

Before he could properly ask himself what was wrong with his bat they closed in on the boat. Gregor could clearly make it out beneath him, but down there, something wasn’t right either – everyone seemed to be in some sort of frenzy, Gregor could even make out a few drawn swords.

Then his gaze met the bats who were still holding the boat in the air. Dazedly, Gregor counted them. One. Two. Three. Four. Four bats – four... bats? He instantly spotted Ares’ black coat among them. His eyes were widened, like in shock, and he was twisting his neck to look at Gregor.

But... if Ares was back down there, who was currently carrying them?

A wave of panic engulfed Gregor and he instinctively began twisting, but before he had wriggled himself out of his grip, the unknown bat let go and he and Twitchtip fell – some ten or eleven feet – hitting the floor of the boat with a loud thud.

Every single inch of Gregor’s body cried in pain as he landed, he groaned and held the throbbing shoulder, where the bat had grabbed him. After regaining at least some control over his arms and legs, Gregor slowly lifted himself to all fours and unclenched his jaw until the flashlight dropped from his mouth.

Temp scurried over and on his back Boots, whom he immediately wrapped in his arms. “You wet!”, she complained, tugging at his soaked shirt, and Gregor could not suppress an enormous grin. “Yes, Boots, I’m wet. It’s what happens when you jump into the water.”

She giggled, and only now Gregor registered the rest of the questers hadn’t spared him a single glance yet. Instead, Howard, Mareth, and Luxa were standing at the side of the boat, Luxa leaned so far out she was in constant threat of falling. They all seemed to be staring out to the sea, and yes, he had seen correctly earlier, all their swords were drawn.

When Gregor scrambled to his feet, to see what they were making such a fuss about, he nearly fell back down in shock as a dark silhouette zoomed by the ship.

“Bat?”, Boots’ tiny voice beside his ear asked, “That bat!” She pointed her small finger.

It’s the bat, he thought, the one who saved us. He twisted his neck to see better as well, and let the beam of his flashlight wander. When it had finally locked onto the bat, Gregor noticed his flight pattern was unstable and he almost lost balance multiple times in mid-air. He had just about enough time to ask himself what the matter was when the bat performed a rigid ninety-degree turn and headed straight for the boat.

“HALT!”, Howard screamed, but the bat didn’t care. He hovered above the boat for a second, then dropped on the floor like a stone. The entire boat rocked and Gregor barely held onto Boots as he was knocked off his feet and stumbled back into Twitchtip.

Gregor raised his gaze as soon as he had regained his senses. The strange bat now lied in a most awkward position, on his stomach, heaving heavily. And around him had assembled three drawn blades.

“What? WHAT?!” Photos-Glow-Glow’s unmissable voice yelped from behind and the firefly darted over Gregor’s head, towards the bat. Zap soon followed, and only in their light, he made out the newcomer clearly.

Gregor blinked in surprise – never before had he seen a bat like this, not even when they had visited their land on their first quest, of that he was sure. He was large, around Ares’ size, and his fur was black as well, but his face was... white, like a mask. Then Gregor’s gaze trailed up and his eyes widened in shock. On his back... sat a rider.

For a split-second, Gregor doubted he was human. Only at second glance, he recognized the thing on his face was a mask. A mask made from what looked like... a rat skull. It glowed ghastly in the sparse light and mirrored the mark on the face of his bat surprisingly well.

Gregor had just enough time to ask himself who the hell they were and where they had come from when Mareth suddenly lowered his blade, utterly aghast. “... Thanatos...?!”

The bat, who had closed his eyes now, visibly overwhelmed with exhaustion, tore them open, Gregor could see their distinct amber glow. He stared at Mareth for a few seconds, before lowering his head. “It’s... been a while, hasn’t it?”

All gazes darted over to the soldier, Luxa and Howard even lowered their swords. The moment the bat registered the blades were down, he leaped up to his hinds, spreading his ginormous wings. Gregor winced back like everyone else and almost ran into Twitchtip again.

“Oh!”, cried Boots and hid her face in his neck.

Luxa instantly twirled around again and raised her sword to point the tip at the bat. But before she could do anything, Mareth had her arm. “Wait!”

Luxa opened her mouth in protest, but the soldier disregarded her. “Thanatos”, he repeated the name. His voice was unbelieving and he squinted his eyes like he did not trust what they showed him. “Is it... is it truly you?”

The bat drew his wings in, unable to hold Mareth’s gaze. “I’m afraid so.”

“Who are you? Who authorized you to land on our boat?” Luxa disregarded his words and simply shoved Mareth aside, taking a step towards the bat with the white face.

“Intruders, is what they are”, Zap quacked in the background, but nobody paid her attention.

Gregor registered the entire group had now assembled around the newcomers, he took a step closer himself when he sensed Temp on his right and even Twitchtip peeking out from behind him.

Howard, on Mareth’s other side, raised his own sword back up. “You have no right to be here!”

This time, it was the rider’s head that jerked around. Gregor could have sworn he was staring at Howard, but it was hard to tell, with his mask. Gregor’s gaze met the sword he had strapped on his back and urgently hoped he would never feel compelled to draw it. Half of him wanted to step up, to try and calm Luxa and Howard, but the other half was still mad at them for how they had refused to save Twitchtip.

“He speaks the truth”, Luxa concurred, “Identify yourselves!”

The bat moved not an inch, but the rider turned back to Luxa, before slowly dismounting. Gregor’s heart sunk, thinking this was the moment he would attack, but on the contrary. He retreated, behind his bat, who inched forward, like to cover him.

“Is that how you treat someone who just saved the life of your warrior?”

All eyes were on the bat with the white face and Gregor felt a jolt of shame. Of course, they had saved his life. His and Twitchtip’s, when nobody else on this stupid boat had. He angrily clenched his teeth, how much more were they expected to do to gain themselves at least the benefit of the doubt?

Gregor opened his mouth to voice his thoughts when Mareth beat him to it – “I... We all thought you were –”, he shook his head, pensively gazing at the bat, before placing a hand on Luxa’s, the other on Howard’s shoulders. “You are right, of course. Lower your blades.”

“But Mareth, they are intruders!”, Luxa spat out and Gregor winced at the hostility in her voice. Before he had time to ask himself what had gotten into her, Howard nodded – “They look like outcasts.” He raised his sword even higher. “We should chase them before they can do any harm.”

“No, stop.” Gregor had never heard Mareth this pained. He slowly approached the bat – “I still can not believe my eyes are not deceiving me. But it really is you.” His gaze darted up at the rider, “You, and –”

“Do you know these people, Mareth?” Luxa’s tone was icy.

“The flier I do”, Mareth sheathed his own sword. “He is... a ghost. Someone I thought I’d never see again. None of us. Not ever since... what, seven? Eight years...?”

“And the human?” Howard’s tone was equally cold and he squinted his eyes, in an attempt to make out the face behind the mask.

Mareth’s jaw visibly clenched. “No... not as far as I can tell, from behind his mask”, he hesitantly admitted. “Not... him. Thanatos, you... for a second I thought you...”

The swords pointed at the rider in a heartbeat. Luxa took another step forward until the tip of her blade nearly touched his chest. Gregor furrowed his brows, fighting the urge to stop her. But he did not want to risk getting into a fight anymore, not after what had happened with the squids. Whatever was going on with him, he did not want to risk another episode of it.

He fully expected the stranger to draw his own sword now, but to his surprise, he did not even attempt it. All he did was stare at Luxa.

Yet as docile as the rider seemed, his bat was not. Faster than Luxa had time to retreat, he rose to his hinds and spread his wings, Gregor estimated they spanned at least a full seventeen feet.

“Leave him alone – he has done you nothing but good!” His gaze darted to Gregor, “It was he who suggested we save you and the rat. You should thank, not threaten him!”

“How can we thank someone who wouldn’t even show us his face?”, Luxa shot back, nearly stumbling over her own feet as she dodged the bat.

Gregor blinked, and even though he thought she was overreacting, a part of him also saw her point. If they were friendly, why would he wear a mask?

“Exactly”, Howard caught Luxa’s arm though she instantly shoved him aside. “Who are you? Show us your good will by telling us – or leave!”

The stranger turned his head in Howard’s direction, how Gregor thought almost offended, but before he could speak, his bat spoke for him – “Who he is, does not concern you.” His tone was quiet, yet Gregor felt a shiver run down his spine from it regardless. “All you need to know is that I am Death, and he is my Rider.”


	23. Death Rider

Gregor furrowed his brows in confusion at first. What was that even supposed to mean, Death and his – “Oh!”

All gazes darted in his direction as he cried out, but at that moment, Gregor hardly cared. His memory took him back to before he had left Regalia, to the room of prophecies. In search of the Prophecy of Bane he had met Nerissa, Gregor vaguely remembered talking to her about Henry, but that was not the part of the conversation that had stuck with him.

Gregor stumbled back, setting a confused Boots down, and fumbled at his pocket before remembering he’d stored the scroll in his backpack, in fear it might get wet. “W... wait, _Death_ and his _Rider_?” Gregor yanked his bag up, barely registering the bewildered gazes of the others. “As in..., you are the _Death Rider_?”

“WHAT?!”

Gregor twirled around, nearly dropping his bag. To his surprise, it had been Howard who had spoken, not the stranger. “Are you out of your mind, Overlander?”

“No!”, he hastily rummaged through his backpack, where had he left the damn thing? It had to be here some– There! He, at last, grasped the neatly tied scroll of leather and held it up triumphantly. “Nerissa gave me this!” He dropped his bag and took a step forward, stretching the scroll out, “She said it belongs to him, the Death Rider. And you just said –!”

“Wait!”

They all winced at the sound of the stranger’s voice. It was the first time he had spoken, and while his face was hidden behind the mask, Gregor still thought he made out furrowed brows.

He instantly froze, scroll still in hand, as the stranger stepped forward. He held Gregor’s gaze, then shook his head. “I’m not the Death Rider.”

“He is not the Death Rider!”, echoed Howard, “The Death Rider is a LEGEND, a figure of –”, but he was interrupted by the stranger who spun around to him – “YOU have no word in this, be quiet!”

Howard involuntarily winced back and nearly tripped over the bat with the white face – Gregor could have sworn his name had been Thanatos – as he appeared behind his rider. “Hey, how about, before you deny anything, you listen to the kid first?”

“But I told you –”, the stranger struggled for words, “Death, I’m not, he... it is –”

“Oh, I remember how it is.” The bat’s expression was almost mischievous. “And as far as I can tell, you have only ever provided evidence in favor of it indeed being you.”

The stranger shook his head in disbelief, throwing Thanatos a death glare from behind his mask, before he turned back to Gregor. His voice was cold, yet there was also something like an excited shaking in it. “Okay. First of all, what do you have there?”, he pointed at the scroll Gregor was still holding out. “And how does the Overland-warrior even know of the Death Rider?”

Gregor furrowed his brows and opened his mouth, to ask how he knew he was the warrior when he realized his Overland-features were distinct among a group of Underlanders. And there was but one Overlander who would team up with a bunch of people to go fulfill a prophecy. Apparently, even outsiders or hermits or whoever these people were, knew that.

“It’s from Nerissa–, I mean, a girl who... well, she knows what she’s talking about.” The stranger would probably have no idea who Nerissa was, so it would not matter to him whether Gregor mentioned her. “She told me about you – I mean, the Death Rider. She said we would meet him during this trip, and that I should give him this –” Gregor took another step forward until he was face to face with the stranger – the Death Rider – of that he was suddenly convinced beyond doubt.

_It is not meant for you, but for the one it features_, Gregor heard Nerissa’s quiet voice in his head. _Take it with you, Overlander, for you will meet him on your quest. Pass it on, so that he may find hope, and strength, and maybe even some clarity in the words._

Gregor had curiously unrolled the scroll and gawked at it in confusion. Never before had he heard the name “Death Rider” anywhere in the Underland.

When he had asked her to explain it, Nerissa had only smiled, though it had been a melancholy smile. _A legend, Overlander,_ she had hummed, _an old tale of a deathly figure wielding a burning sword, riding on the wings of Death Himself._

Breaking into laughter at Gregor’s mortified expression, she had eased his mind – _Or so Henry described. _Her gaze had met a spot in a far-off corner of the room. _He made up endless tales of the Death Rider when we were little. I would not recommend taking my brother’s word for it though. He told stories without end, yet all good storytellers exaggerate. I doubt he is anything but a human, like you and I._

Gregor had not exactly known what to answer to that, so he had asked how he was supposed to recognize this apparently human “Death Rider” when he saw him.

_Do not worry about that, Overlander. _Nerissa had essentially forced the scroll into his hand._ You will most certainly know it when he stands before you. After all – he is the One who rides Death._

_The One who rides Death_, Gregor held the stranger’s gaze. “You are the Rider of Death, didn’t he – eh, Thanatos say that?”

When his opponent remained silent, Gregor sighed. “Look, just take it, okay? I have no idea why either, all I know is that someone I trust asked me to give this to the One who rides –”

“– fine!” Gregor barely released the scroll in time when the stranger yanked it from his hand. “Look, I’m not any Death Rider, that would be like – ha!” He let out a short laugh and shook his head, “Yeah, no. But if... you say I should have this thing, I might as well. It’s not like it will take up much space in my pocket.”

Gregor released a relieved breath. It felt so great to have this off his chest at last, he nearly forgot the situation hadn’t exactly been resolved yet. Luxa and Howard had not sheathed their swords still, even though both blades were pointing down.

“The Death Rider...”, Luxa mumbled into the silence, her gaze wandered back and forth between the strangers, though her eyes held less disbelief than Howard’s. “Gregor, you do not truly believe he is the –” She was interrupted by a dismissive snort from her cousin, who now raised his sword again. “Well, whoever he may or may not be, it is not decided yet what we shall do with him.”

The stranger turned his way and they stared at each other for what felt like hours to Gregor. “Whatever they do, they cannot stay”, Howard spoke, turning to Mareth for confirmation.

“Hey, you can’t chase us off now!”, the stranger protested at once, “We won’t survive if you do!”

“What are you talking about?” Luxa narrowed her eyes.

He shot her the same type of glare back. “We would plummet into the waterway and drown if you chase us now! Death cannot continue on, not after we flew all the way here from the northern coast, and he was forced to heave a fully-grown rat and a kid out of the water.”

He tugged at his mask, eyeing the rest of the group. “Look, I know you don’t trust us, but do you wish to condemn us to death, after we even saved your warrior? We will not stay for longer than we have to, than Death–, Thanatos has to. In all honesty”, he snorted, crossing his arms, “it’s the least you owe us.”

“Well, nobody asked you to rescue the rat and –”, but before Luxa could finish her sentence, Mareth cut her off – “Hold on – did you just say you came ALL THE WAY from the northern coast?”

Gregor listened up. He remembered his conversation with Ares earlier, how no bat had ever crossed the waterway in one go – then there had been Mareth, saying they were past half-way there. How had these two even gotten here?

“Oh, we did.” He could have sworn the stranger was grinning. “Our plan was to cross the waterway. You know, first time, and all. But then we ran into you, and you obviously needed help, so we spontaneously canceled. Thanks for that, by the way.”

His stance was confident now, nothing compared to how almost timid he had seemed before. His hands were at his hips, and something about that pose and the undisguised, overzealous confidence seemed familiar to Gregor. Well, maybe it was just a general association with a... certain sort of people.

As grateful as he still was they had saved him, Gregor immediately found them, especially the human, less sympathetic.

“It seems you have not changed in the slightest, then”, Mareth’s gaze was still on Thanatos, and not nearly as surprised as everyone else’s, before he turned back to the group – “And he is right, you cannot deny what they did for us. For Gregor.”

Luxa and Howard both tore their eyes away from the bat to glare at him like he had personally offended them. “Mareth, you do not seriously consider granting them refuge?” Howard’s tone was icy. “They are clearly outcasts! Who knows what they did to end up as such?!”

“Howard is right. It is madness. He still has not even told us who he is!” Luxa didn’t sound any friendlier.

“He... Thanatos was not cast out. He left... on his own.”

Gregor blinked in surprise, catching a glimpse at the bat with the white face. What was Mareth talking about? He had never heard of such a thing as “leaving on one’s own”. As far as he remembered, exile was considered a form of death sentence in the Underland.

Luxa’s and Howard’s faces mirrored his own when suddenly someone spoke who hadn’t raised his voice yet – “He is a friend, he is.”

All eyes darted to Temp, who was usually not much of a talker, especially in bigger groups, and he twitched nervously at the attention.

“What do you mean?” Mareth tilted his head.

The cockroach scurried over to the strangers, rose to his hinds and inspected the human, then hummed approvingly. “You are who my kind speaks of, you are. They call you Wielder of Light, they call you. As Savior, they praise you, they praise you.”

“Wielder of... Light? What kind of name is that?”, Howard mumbled but was interrupted when the stranger sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m your all’s savior. That’s me, alright.” Quieter, he mumbled, “That savior-of-the-crawlers-status is actually haunting my life now. Great.”

Gregor barely had time to wonder what problem the stranger could have with being the savior of the crawlers – and how he had managed to earn a name like “Wielder of Light” before Howard spoke again – “Whoever he is to you Temp, we can hardly base our decision on that. We should stop stalling and decide what to do with them.”

Luxa stepped forward, “As queen, I shall –”, but Mareth cut her off – “With all due respect, at sea, you are not. Here, we all depend on each other, hence a decision will be made unanimously. Or do you claim to have what it takes to steer this boat to its destination on your own, Your Majesty?”

Luxa shot him a furious glare, “Alright – how will WE decide then?!”

“What if we vote?” Gregor hadn’t even realized he was the one speaking until he felt all eyes on him.

“Fantastic idea, Gregor”, Mareth smiled, turning to the others. “We vote then.” Nobody dared to argue.

As Mareth called for votes in favor of chasing the strangers off, Luxa and Howard raised their hands instantly. The fireflies gave their vote too – “More uninvited passengers to feed our precious food! No thanks”, was Photos-Glow-Glow’s only comment.

Then, Mareth asked for the countervote and immediately raised his own hand. Gregor did the same, only seconds later. Even if they wouldn’t have saved him, he would never condone condemning them to death.

Twitchtip next to him signaled her approval too, she also owed them her life. Temp did the same, as did the bats, whom Zap had apparently filled in on everything as they still carried the boat. He overheard her say to Photos-Glow-Glow they sympathized with Thanatos for having almost achieved the impossible by flying here, after she had brought Mareth their votes.

Gregor let his gaze wander as everyone had expressed their opinion and smiled – those in favor of granting the strangers refuge were a clear majority.

“This is not fair – I will order them to leave! You can not command me!” Luxa was apparently not used to not getting her way, yet Mareth only shook his head. “The group has spoken. Even the queen should learn to listen to the will of her people occasionally.”

And so it was decided.

Gregor gave a relieved sigh when everyone, even Howard, finally seized protesting. Only the fireflies sat in the far-end of the boat, audibly complaining to each other, but he decided they could go fly a kite. For a second he wondered if the expression even made any sense for them before he processed Boots was not on Temp’s back anymore.

Gregor instantly had a small heart attack. “Boots?”, he called, nearly tripping over the cockroach who had appeared behind him. “Over there”, he pointed one of his antennas at the strangers.

And there – Gregor found her sitting next to the bat – Thanatos. She was pointing at his face and giggling. The rider stood next to them and watched, grinning down on the little girl.

Gregor hurried over and scooped her up, earning heavy protest. “I talk with bat!”, she complained, “I talk with bat!” He barely held her as she attempted to wriggle free.

“Boots, you can’t –” Curiously enough it was Thanatos’ rider who interrupted him – “Oh leave her, she was just in the process of coming up with a poem about Death’s face and I really, REALLY wanted to hear the end of that.”

“Oh, go chase yourself”, Thanatos mumbled and earned a kick from the human, yet his expression was contented.

Gregor already took a step away from them when he suddenly frowned – “Wait, did... you just call him... “Death”?” To his surprise, the rider laughed. “Well, it’s way shorter than “Thanatos”.”

Gregor tilted his head, only now realizing Thanatos really meant Death. His eyes met the large bat and he shook his head, the nickname was as accurate as it was morbid. “Fair enough.”

“But hey”, the stranger addressed Gregor again, “as fascinating as this conversation is – don’t you have any desire to rid yourself of those wet clothes? Must be freezing!”

A few hours later, it was probably in the middle of the night, the questers gathered to eat. Both Gregor and Twitchtip had finally been given towels to dry, and Mareth had handed him a fresh set of clothes.

Howard had further changed the bandage on his arm, Gregor had, by this point, nearly forgotten it.

The bats, who had lowered the boat back into the water, shortly after it had been decided to let the two strangers stay, joined them as well. They had gone out to catch fish as most of their supplies had sunk with the other boat.

He had just begun wondering how they were supposed to cook it, here, on the open sea, when Luxa took a seat beside him. “Some of the supplies survived. I made you a sandwich.”

He looked down at the clunky version of a roast beef sandwich and almost smiled when he remembered he had taught her to make sandwiches on their last trip. But then he also remembered Luxa as she had attempted to stop him from saving Twitchtip.

“Thanks.” He left it untouched. Instead of looking at her, he eyed Mareth, Howard, and the strangers – outcasts, had been the term Howard had used. They had begun distributing the fish between them. Gregor thought the bats had probably eaten while they had fished.

“Do not be angry with us for attempting to stop you from jumping earlier, Gregor”, Luxa spoke and he furrowed his brows, but let her speak. “Mareth and I have lost more than you know to the rats. It is hard for us to risk anything to save one. Even if it is of use.”

“SHE. Twitchtip is a SHE”, Gregor nearly yelled. “And she’s had a bad time, too. The rats chased her out because she’s a scent seer and she’s been living all alone in the Dead Land. Did you know that?”

“I... I did not”, Luxa mumbled with a hint of shame. “I know... nothing really about her.”

“Well, no, because no one talks to her!” Gregor watched Twitchtip as she cautiously approached Mareth and the outcasts, and was given her own portion of fish without much hesitation.

He thought of all the things he could say in her defense, how Ripred had brought her to help him, how she had smelled out the whirlpool, how she was their best shot at finding the Bane – but all Gregor said was, “It’s no good to sit up in the boat and watch someone drown.”

He took a bite of the sandwich — more to have an excuse to not speak on, than anything. It was all so confusing, the whole thing with the rats and the humans. They had killed Luxa’s parents, and he didn’t know how many others. Suddenly, another thought struck him and he finally threw her a glance, from the corner of his eye. “Helping a rat doesn’t make you like Henry, you know?”

Luxa did not meet his eyes. “You see it that way. Others might not.”

He opened his mouth to protest when he realized something else – “Is that also why you were trying so hard to prevent us from letting those two strangers stay? Because you thought you had to prove your loyalty?”

Luxa’s silence spoke for itself. She still did not meet his gaze, and Gregor angrily frowned. Is she going to be like this forever now? A single member of her family turned out a bad guy and now she feels like she needs to be this overly strict and correct all the time, just to prove she isn’t like him, or what?

He had already opened his mouth to attempt and put his thoughts into words when a voice called – “Kids?”

Gregor’s head darted up at Mareth, who stood before them now, a couple paces behind him the rider. In surprise, Gregor registered his gaze was turned to the floor, away from them.

“Will you not join us?”

The meal went by in more or less awkward silence as both Luxa and Howard refused to talk to the strangers, and Gregor felt himself caught between the fronts. Mareth attempted to mediate, but he was little successful.

After they had all finished eating, he told them to go to sleep, as Gregor thought, almost relieved.

Gregor fetched Boots and curled up with her at the back end of the boat, Howard and Luxa close by. He attempted not to listen to their hushed whispers when he sensed a familiar figure touch down beside him.

“Hey, Ares”, Gregor mumbled, infinitely glad to have someone to distract his thoughts. “What’s up?”

“I am unsettled. About your rescue of the rat.”

Irritated, he rose, nearly waking Boots in the process. She gave a quiet hum and twitched. “You –”, but before Gregor could begin complaining, Ares continued – “I could not let go of the boat. I would have dived for you, but I could not let go without everyone falling.” His wings fluttered in distress. “Had the outcasts not come, I did not... I... I wanted to set the boat down. I urged the others to find somewhere to set it down, but I –”

“Hey, I know that.” Gregor lied back down cautiously, trying to not disturb Boots more. “Of course, you couldn’t.” A hint of shame at his own short-sightedness, for even expecting him to come, flooded Gregor and he closed his eyes.

“I did not want you to think, as your bond, that I would not come for you”, Ares mumbled, and Gregor instantly knew what he was getting at.

“The way I did not go after Henry.”

Man, was this the day everyone remembered Henry, or what? “I didn’t think that”, he assured. “I know you did what you could.”

“Thank you.”

The following silence was at least peaceful, Gregor thought, as he tightened his grip on Boots and consciously relaxed his tensed muscles. Only now he realized how exhausted he was, and barely suppressed a yawn before he allowed sleep to engulf him. How much more pleasant it was than the icy waves of the waterway.

“And I’m telling you, they KIDNAPPED HIM! Thanatos told me only how he had needed to “take care of some old business”, turned out he had angered the slimers – the SLIMERS, imagine! Ha! And that so much they sent ASSASSINS after him!”

Gregor’s eyes jerked open. The voice was cheerful but strangely... unfamiliar. He had not expected to hear a voice he did not instantly recognize on an isolated boat, and when he rose to determine its source, his eyes met the front of the boat. To his surprise, most of the others had gathered up there, like the source of the voice.

Gregor spotted the stranger – the outcast – whoever he was, still with his skull mask on, excitedly gesticulating, sitting among a group of his fellow travelers – apparently in the middle of telling a story.

Around him, they all had assembled – Mareth, who was navigating and listening at the same time, Luxa, who now stared at the man she had voted to condemn to death only hours ago with big, admiring eyes, Pandora, Aurora, and Andromeda, Temp with Boots, and even Photos-Glow-Glow and Zap. Twitchtip too, but she was a few feet away from the group, cowering close to the wall of the boat.

“He thought the slimers were too slow to ever catch up to him, but they sent the Sicix, an elite team of spinner assassins, instead. It is honestly hilarious, if it weren’t kind of serious too, because –”

Gregor winced as in that moment, a shadow dove down, flying directly over his head. “If you do not stop talking this instant, I WILL toss you overboard, got it?” Thanatos landed directly between Luxa and the fireflies, who jolted back and cried out. In the same moment, he sensed Ares’ presence at his side. “Mareth sent us fishing”, his bat mumbled, dropping his load.

“Oh come on, relax, Death”, the outcast mocked, “it’s just a few stories. What harm can they do?”

Everyone now grinned at the bat, apparently for almost having died by the slimers. Gregor had no idea what or who they were, but somehow he thought he didn’t have to know.

“Oh, oh, is it you our ancestors speak of, then?”, Zap suddenly raised her voice.

“Yes, yes, they speak of a flier who carried them over the waterway, after the slimers had so maliciously declared war!”, Photos-Glow-Glow cut her off, his butt excitedly blinked in colorful lights.

“Excuse YOU, but I was talking!”, Zap complained. “And besides, I know much more of the –”

“Hey, the flier is rested now, is he not?”, Howard interrupted before they could break into a full-fledged argument. He had appeared behind the fireflies, and not been listening earlier, Gregor realized.

“Yes, yes...” The outcast gazed up at him, tugging at his mask. “But it is still dangerous to try and fly for shore now, it is too far.” His gaze darted to his bat who had settled next to Andromeda and was throwing death glares his way. “He needs more time, eh... Horatius, was it?”

Every single individual in the group broke into frantic laughter, even Gregor couldn’t prevent a little giggle. Howard’s face reddened in fury and he insistently corrected – “Howard. It is HOWARD.”

“Ahh, right, right. To be honest, all I remembered was that your name started with “H”, and that you weren’t important enough to remember more.”

His words revived the laughter and Howard crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, but remained silent.

“Ah, well, as entertaining as this is, I see Gregor has woken and the fliers I sent to fish have returned. We should have breakfast”, Mareth called them to order.

“Hey, you were fishing with him?”, Gregor asked Ares as he stood up and began making his way over, “With Thanatos I mean. How... well, how is he?”

“Taciturn. We barely spoke.” Ares twitched. “I would not really have it any other way, though.”

Gregor nodded and scooped up Boots on his way. “We’re going to have breakfast”, he told her as he attempted to arrange her messed curls.

“The few words we exchanged were about his attempt to fly over the waterway”, Ares spread his wings. “I was... curious as to, well, how it is.”

“Because you wanted to try it yourself?”

Gregor recalled their conversation, a couple days ago, and Ares nodded. “Honestly, it was Henry’s idea at the time. And while it would be a great feat to accomplish, I am unsure whether I am destined for it. Now more than ever.”

Gregor shrugged following his bat over to the others. “It’s your choice. I mean, I’m certainly not going to force you.”

He thought Ares shot him a grateful smile before they turned their attention at Mareth who was supposed to distribute the food. Yet the soldier disclosed their supplies were so limited they would have to ration what had remained and eat the fish the bats had caught raw.

At Luxa’s and Gregor’s protests, Howard told them they ate it like that sometimes where he lived, it did little for Gregor’s own disgust though.

As he nibbled at the edge of a chunk, attempting to force himself to swallow, his eyes met the outcast. He ate his portion like it was the most normal thing in the world, and Gregor thought he’d probably been forced to eat far worse if he was really an outcast.

The fireflies complained as always when their gluttonous demands weren’t met – “Why do the girl, the outcast, and their fliers get our food?”, Gregor heard Zap mutter. “They are no more than stowaways!”

When their whining became unbearable, Twitchtip remarked she could always eat fireflies. At that, they shut up, but continuously sulked, and only put out light when they felt like it.

And, of course, Boots they couldn’t serve the raw fish to. She kept crying for food, even after eating up half of Gregor’s and Temp’s portions of bread and dried beef.

“Oh, here, give her this”, Twitchtip, at last, called and scooted a chunk of cheese over to Boots, who began gnawing on it happily. Everyone gawked at Twitchtip, who averted her eyes and only snarled – “It reeks of humans, I can barely choke it down anyway!”

Everyone looked away at that. But Gregor was pretty sure he had witnessed a first — a rat giving a human food.

After Gregor and Luxa had both managed to finish their portions, the group disassembled. Only the strangers remained at the front with Mareth, who asked Howard to take over steering and went to sit with Thanatos at the back end of the boat. Andromeda soon joined, and Gregor thought they probably intended to catch up.

He had nearly forgotten Mareth had recognized the bat, and as curious as he was, he decided it was not his place to ask where from. Not if Mareth didn’t want to share on his own.

The man with the skull mask – the Death Rider, Gregor was still convinced – remained standing around, somewhat clueless. He seemed not to share any of Thanatos’ and Mareth’s common memories. Instead, he soon sat down somewhere in the middle of the boat, as far away from Luxa and Howard as possible, and started digging through his backpack.

Gregor was contemplating whether he should go talk to him, maybe, when a tiny voice caught him off-guard – “I like your boots!”

Gregor’s gaze instantly darted over and worry rose in him at the sight of his little sister, who had now approached the outcast. Had she escaped Temp’s watch... again?

He took a step forward but was not quick enough to prevent her from waddling over to where the outcast sat and happily tug at the fur enveloping his lower legs. Gregor quickened his pace and opened his mouth to apologize, but the outcast did not seem angry at all. He thought he even made out a grin behind his mask. “Oh, I know, they are nice. You like fur, hm?”

Boots giggled and continued tugging at it, even harder now. He proceeded to ignore her and went back to digging through his backpack.

Gregor stopped in his tracks as he processed the outcast actually wore... boots. Never had he seen an Underlander wear anything but sandals, and in the light Zap emitted, from where she sat nearby, Gregor inspected him closer for the first time.

A single thorough glance confirmed it wasn’t just the boots. He had never seen anyone like him in the Underland – or anywhere else, really, not even remotely.

In his head, he went over the clothes Luxa, Mareth, and Howard wore, the clothes he himself had worn so far. It had been silk, occasional leather, but that had always been of remarkable quality. Like the leather all the really expensive purses, shoes, and wallets in that designer leather shop in the mall were made from.

What the outcast wore was different. Gregor saw his clothes must all be hand-sewn, and the leather of his coat and boots was rough, as was the fur on his collar and legs. Rat fur, it dawned on him, it’s probably... rat fur. And rat leather, too.

Gregor barely prevented a shudder at the thought this... this guy in front of him was supposed to have skinned a rat for materials to make his clothes out of.

But it wasn’t just the clothes. Gregor spotted a huge scar, shaped like a claw mark, tearing his right shoulder and many other, less prominent ones, painting white lines on his pale Underlander-skin.

It must be as bad as they all say, living on your own, Gregor swallowed the uprising lump in his throat. He squinted his eyes, attempting to make out more of his face beneath the mask to estimate his age. Only as the outcast raised his head a little, Gregor caught a better glimpse at his features and blinked in surprise. He had first guessed the outcast must be around Mareth’s age, thirty or so, but now he thought twenty was probably more accurate. Maybe even less.

He’s only a teenager, Gregor bit his lip in a mix of concern, respect, and sympathy. He was well aware in the Underland you were considered of age from sixteen forward, but he still found it unsettling to find someone so young had somehow ended up out here, all on his own.

Outcast. He thought the word over for the first time, and barely suppressed the rising unease at what it inevitably entailed. Had he really been... cast out? Sentenced to death? Then he remembered Mareth and how he had explained Thanatos had run away on his own – had his rider as well? If not, what crime could he have possibly committed, at such a young age, to have been punished so severely?

Though Gregor instantly reprehended himself, Henry had also been sixteen, and he had committed treason. Would Henry have been sentenced to death, had he not died? Would he have been cast out? Or executed? The thought crossed Gregor’s mind for the first time and he quickly buried it again. It was not something he wanted to dwell on, not if he didn’t absolutely have to.

Or had the outcast... betrayed his bond? An image of Ares and his trial, his fate, hadn’t Gregor intervened, flashed in his mind – then again, wasn’t Thanatos his bond? Gregor realized they had never expressed to be bonds – but did humans and bats even team up like this in the Underland, without being bonds? They had wanted to cross the waterway together, hadn’t they?

“Hey, she yours?” Gregor winced as the outcast addressed him and picked up Boots under her arms, holding her out to her brother. She uncomfortably writhed in his grasp and Gregor quickly took her, “Yeah. Sorry if she bothered you.”

“Oh, she’s fine. Have you really called her “Boots” earlier?”

Gregor gave a pained laugh. “Yeah. She... let’s just say yours aren’t the only boots she’s into.” He cradled her in his arms and let his gaze wander in search of Temp.

The outcast stood up and tugged at the sword belt around his upper body. “And here I was, thinking mine were special.” He grinned down at them, then deftly performed something like a dance step and struck a pose. Boots instantly began giggling and clapped vigorously, and Gregor couldn’t suppress laughter either.

The outcast grinned. “Seriously, how you all still wear sandals is unbelievable. They’re fancy and all, but the amount of protection they provide ranges somewhere in the region of minus-nine-hundred.”

With surprise, Gregor realized he hadn’t even considered that reason for wearing boots over sandals. Maybe because so far, nothing had attacked his legs yet, and the fact that this outcast had apparently encountered something that had, unsettled him.

Gregor remembered Luxa’s admiring expression when she had stared at him during his story, and found, as inevitably intriguing as the outcast seemed, he personally felt no envy for him or his apparent lifestyle. He was just so... right, the word Gregor had been looking for was... “veteran”.

Someone who had been through a lot and seen a lot of bad things, and yet remained on top of everything. His dad sometimes seemed like that too, on his good days, when he actually did remain on top of everything.

But this man, he was always like that, Gregor thought. And he also thought he would avoid angering him as much as he possibly could. His eyes darted over to the tattered handle of his sword – because he most certainly looked like he could kick his butt. And probably everyone else’s on this boat too, even if Gregor was convinced most of them would deny it.

* * *

Henry’s gaze followed Gregor as he excused himself, still with his sister in his arms, in search of that crawler they had apparently taken with them as babysitter – or whatever his purpose here was.

In all honesty, what else could his purpose even be? Henry let out a short laugh. A crawler on a boat. Now that was a sight you saw not every day.

As the Overlander had sufficiently moved away, he plopped back down on the floor, and his eyes met Thanatos, Mareth, and Andromeda, still in brisk discussion. Jealousy of how freely the flier could disclose his identity boiled up in him, and he forced his gaze back to his backpack.

Well, at least, like this, he could pretend to forget Howard’s name as often as he liked. Henry grinned, his offended face in mind. Horatius – he had truly outdone himself this time.

Then again – what in the world Howard was doing here, eluded him entirely. Even the crawler seemed to be useful for at least babysitting, what Howard was supposed to be useful for, he could not even begin to imagine.

Henry let his eyes wander in search of him and spotted him at the helm, steering the boat. Right, Stellovet had bragged often enough about her brother’s experience in seafaring. That meant little though, Henry shook his head. Mareth was here too, and he could easily navigate on his own.

Howard is here, because Henry is not, a quiet yet pungent voice whispered in his head, and the exiled prince angrily clenched his jaw, tugging at the clasp of his backpack so hard he nearly tore it off.

Right. As if Howard even marginally had what it took to replace him.

He may be a lot of things, the voice replied, but at least he is not a traitor.

Enough, he internally screamed at the voice and almost physically felt it duck away in fear. He had by no means expected Howard here, but he would have to put up with him now, whether he wanted or not.

Meaning to distract himself, he dug deeper into his backpack, in search of his notebook. He could have sworn it was here some–

“What are you looking for?” Henry’s head jerked up as Thanatos suddenly appeared next to him.

“Oh, so now you care”, the exiled prince shot back. “What’s the matter, your friends tired of talking to you or something?” His face flushed in anger and Henry averted his gaze.

“Hey, hey, why are you so angry?” The flier gazed at him with concern, before slowly lying down at his side, curling into a ball.

“Nevermind...” Henry attempted to combat the searing jealousy. “Wasn’t such a bad idea to come after all, hm?”

“Mareth and Andromeda are old friends”, Thanatos mumbled. “We were fairly close, a long time ago. I...”, Henry felt his eyes on him, “It is harder than you thought, to hide your identity around your loved ones, right?”

“How would you know?”, the exiled prince shot back and pulled the mask deeper into his face.

“So that is it”, Thanatos mumbled. He remained silent for a while, before, how Henry thought, deliberately attempting to change the subject – “But, you were right. It is not as bad as I thought. I... I had not considered there might be people here I also used to share a connection with.”

Henry remained silent. He was not really in the mood for an argument and his anger at Thanatos was unjustified, he knew that perfectly well. It was not worth a fight.

“So... what in the world did the tall boy, Howard, ever do to you, for you to hate him so ferociously?”, Thanatos broke the silence first. “HORATIUS and all, I mean.”

Henry scoffed. “Eh, it’s just Howard. When we were little, he was that kid who would snitch to the adults and scream “language” when someone cussed. A party pooper at best. Never liked him, and it’s not like I was the only one either.”

Henry would not have been able to count how many times Howard had gotten him in trouble when they had been children. It had always been one of his favorite past-times telling on Henry, and he had teased Howard and his sister Stellovet endlessly in return.

Though, the only problem he had with Stellovet was how she mistreated Nerissa, while the thing with Howard was more of a boys-of-the-same-age-rivalry-thing, if Howard could even be considered a rival.

In fact, Luxa had never seized teasing him, saying he would marry Stellovet one day for he was the only boy who could keep her temper in check. _Then she can finally be a princess, _he heard Luxa laugh,_ as she so desperately wants! _He had often joined into her laughter, but his response afterward had always been the same – he would not marry a girl who was mean to his sister. If Stellovet ever wanted a shot, she should learn that.

Henry caught himself smiling at the memories before, from the corner of his eye, he spotted Twitchtip creeping closer. He immediately tensed, remembering perfectly well she had seen – or smelled – him before. He’d had honestly forgotten she was supposed to accompany the quest and dared not to address her, in fear she might somehow recognize him. A rat who could smell colors from beyond the stink of Sulphur could surely also make out he and Luxa were related.

Yet so far, to his eternal surprise, she had not said anything. Henry had instantly decided he did not trust the silence though. Not for a second.

“You fear me...” He jumped at her quiet voice, Thanatos raised his head as well. “Or more specifically, you fear what I smell...”

Henry clenched his jaw so hard it nearly hurt. He quickly glanced around whether anyone was close – “Do I have any reason to?”

Twitchtip nervously began working her nose with her paw. “You do not want them to learn you are her cousin”, she pointed at Luxa with the tip of her tail. “You fear me because I can smell, smell that you...”

“Don’t.” Henry turned to her and attempted to convey as much urgency into his gaze as he could. “Please. You...”

“Do not fear”, she cut him off. “Do not...”, her eyes began shifting, “if you do not wish for them to know, I will trust you have your reason.” She lowered her head. “I owe you my life. And whatever that reason is, I wanted you to know”, she sniffed, “I will not condemn you, not after you saved me. A life for a life”, she blurted out, before hastily scrambling up and scurrying away.

Thanatos and Henry watched her curl up in a far corner and exchanged glances. “Let’s be glad she knows honor”, the flier mumbled, and Henry nodded. What a surprising stroke of luck, in all his misery – Howard-related, and otherwise.

He was about to resume searching for his notebook when, from the corner of his eye, he registered movement – a big, black shadow descending onto the deck. An arrow pierced Henry’s heart when he recognized Ares. Of course he was here, he had carried the boat earlier, but the exiled prince realized he had not properly registered he was really here before.

The flier he had once called friend – bond – didn’t take notice of him, instead, he got caught up talking to Gregor. Henry frowned, if he remembered the mess of an introduction that had followed his permission to stay last night, had they not spoken of Ares as... Gregor’s bond?

Yes, Mareth’s voice was fresh in his mind – and there they were now – the flier who had let him fall and the kid he had saved instead. Who had... bonded to him? When and how had that even happened?

“It is Ares”, Thanatos’ voice beside him suddenly sounded. “I was out with him to fish, earlier.” Hesitantly, he continued – “It is he, is it not? Your former bond.”

Henry nodded. “Ares, yeah”, he sighed, averting his gaze from the two. “I mean, it’s honestly whatever. He is the past. I’m over it.” I have you now, he almost said, but stopped himself.

He was lying, Henry knew that perfectly well. He was far from “over it”, but what was Thanatos supposed to do about that? Ares was none of his concern anymore. As he himself had said – he was the past.

As he kept digging in his backpack, the scroll Gregor had given him, came up and Henry remained staring at it for a second, before mindlessly storing it in his waterproof container. Hadn’t Gregor mentioned Nerissa, he wouldn’t have taken it at all.

For a moment longer he stared at it – there was no way, no way HE was the actual Death Rider – the fabled Grim Reaper-figure from his childhood play-pretends. No matter whether he’d always claimed to have been the one chosen to one day take over the Death Rider’s duties as a child, or not.

For a moment he considered opening the scroll, to look what it even was, but then left it. He had better things to do. And he should not get his hopes up either. His Death Rider days lied in the past – which was still a little bit of a shame, but oh well.

But, Nerissa always knew what she was talking about, that Henry had learned a long time ago, and if she wanted him to have it, he would take it. A painful jolt of desire to see his sister engulfed him and Henry sighed. Nerissa would be alright. She was stronger than anyone gave her credit for, he knew that better than anyone.

For a second he considered whether she knew he was alive – that it was him, Gregor was to hand the scroll, Henry, her brother. Maybe.

_There are evils beyond death, _her words rang in his ears and Henry smiled. I know, baby sister, he thought. Now I know.

A few hours of quiet travel passed, Henry and Thanatos eventually fell asleep in a pile on the floor, right where they had sat. The exiled prince hadn’t slept since his last nap over the waterway, and Thanatos needed all the rest he could get, after his exceptional flight.

The questers let them sleep, but the flier awoke anyway as soon as he smelled lunch. They were both instantly up and the first to heed Mareth’s call, closely followed by Luxa.

Henry was already cutting his fish open with Mys when the soldier tilted his head at him. “Excuse me”, he pointed at Mys with his own knife, “but that dagger you have there is exceptional.”

Henry raised the dagger proudly. “Oh, you mean Mys? Yes, the one who crafted it called it the most remarkable weapon ever made. Like it?” He twisted the blade in the air, and suddenly found himself surrounded again.

Especially Luxa and Mareth were fascinated with the weapon. Howard too, Henry was certain of that, but he had enough willpower not to show it.

“Is that GOLD?” Luxa’s eyes were round as she pointed at the frame.

“Yes – well, it’s an alloy, actually but it mostly consists of gold.” Henry was glad Mareth requested to hold it before Luxa could ask where he had gotten the gold from.

Only as he told them it was one of Gorger’s teeth, Gregor got interested too. He took a look at it and shuddered, so Henry thought, at the fact the thing was supposed to be a single tooth, and admitted it looked unique at least, though he was clearly not much for weapons. Fine warrior, that.

The soldier and the crown princess, on the other hand, passed it between them multiple times, and only extremely unwillingly gave it back.

“A fine weapon your new bond has, Thanatos”, Mareth exclaimed at the flier and longingly followed the dagger with his eyes as Henry sheathed it.

The exiled prince froze, and Thanatos almost choked on his last bite of fish. “EXCUSE ME!”, he blurted out, interrupted by a coughing fit, “We are NOT bonds”, Henry finished his sentence. “Why the hell does everyone take us for bonds, even?! Like I’d ever bond to HIM!” He pointed a finger at Thanatos dismissively.

“OHHH you are one to talk, you useless brat!”

“Useless? Your ass would have died in a slime bath, hadn’t I decided it was worth my time to save it!”

“And YOU would have –”

“ENOUGH!” Mareth seemed visibly distressed, and only now Henry realized every single individual on the boat was staring at them.

“Well”, he put his hands to his hips, “we are NOT bonds.”

“And never will be”, Thanatos concurred, having coughed out the piece of fish. With irritation, Henry found something about the way he had said that had his throat lump.

“Alright, we have all understood”, Mareth interrupted, eyeing them pensively. “However, we have more urgent matters to consider. The two strangers who saved Gregor and Twitchtip yesterday have a proposition for you.”

He took a deep breath and eyed the assembled cast. “I talked to Thanatos earlier and I believe he has informed his... ally about this?” Mareth eyed Henry and he nodded. Thanatos had indeed told him what he had proposed to the soldier, and he was infinitely glad he didn’t have to hold this speech himself.

“We talked about our purpose here”, Mareth continued, “and they have offered us their help in killing the Bane.”

An uproar instantly went through the assembly, and Henry’s heart sunk at the mostly hostile faces. They had let them stay because they hadn’t wanted to condemn them to death, but they would not have outcasts join their cause. Of course not.

“You have got to be kidding me!”, Howard called, “they will leave, now!”

“We appreciate what they did for Gregor, but Howard is not wrong”, Luxa averted her eyes as she spoke, and Henry registered she had left out Twitchtip. “They must leave now.” It was harder for her to send them away, but she would nonetheless do it to appear loyal.

Henry sighed. Well, in all honesty, had he really expected them to allow this? “I thought you could use all the help you could get”, he addressed them. “But if you so decide to refuse our help, we will accept it.”

There was another vote, and this time, everyone except for Mareth, Temp, Gregor, and Twitchtip had voted against them.

“I’m sorry. They will regret having sent you away”, Mareth said to Thanatos and the flier sighed. “We knew they would. We all knew.”

“We will never be far off”, the exiled prince addressed Mareth, and realized he was already missing him. They had been so close once – Henry vividly remembered the countless hours he and the soldier had spent in the arena, working on the blood ball challenge – his patience with him, his much-appreciated expertise.

“Fly you high!”, he called, attempting to memorize their faces. Was this truly the last time he would ever see them?

As he mounted up, Gregor suddenly approached and something latched onto Henry’s leg. “Dun go”, the tiny voice belonged to Boots, who was once more hugging the soft fur on his boot.

“Hey, eh... all I wanted to say was...”, Gregor scratched his head awkwardly, “I mean... thank you. You know, for saving me and Twitchtip. I know I could use your help in the Labyrinth, but... I can’t do anything.” He threw a glance back. “They all don’t want to seem disloyal, that’s why they tell themselves they can’t accept help from an outlaw – outcast – whatever you are.”

Henry managed to shoot him a smile. Under normal circumstances, he knew Gregor and he would not really get along, as their first and only quest together had shown, but the boy had always known what he wanted, at least. And he was refreshingly unbiased.

“You’re welcome.” He tipped the top of his mask like a hat. “We help where we can.”

Henry called a last “Fly you high!” when they took off and made out Mareth’s and Gregor’s responses – but only theirs. The boat grew smaller in the distance with the second before it disappeared out of sight altogether.

And then, as he turned to face forward again, Henry realized he knew something for certain – no matter what happened or what anyone said, he could not leave the people on the boat to fate.

He would rather drown in the depths below here and now.


	24. Rift

Henry jerked up, looking around in confusion. They were no longer over the waterway, was the first thing he realized. He was still on Thanatos’ back, but he did not see well enough to recognize their surroundings.

“Death”, he groaned, pulling his slipping sword belt into position, “where the hell are we? Was I asleep?”

The flier beneath him hummed. “And that for a while. We are almost back in the Dead Land.”

The Dead Land? Henry stiffened up and, despite the darkness, threw a glance back. “Hey, wait...”

Thanatos dipped out of the mound of the tunnel and into a familiar cave. “Let me guess”, he spread his wings and touched down, at the bank of the same river they had camped at when they had seen Ripred and Twitchtip. “You’re hungry?”

Still dazed from sleep and confusion, Henry slid off his back. “I’m... hey, we’re here already?”

“Yeah, as you so observantly remarked back then, it is not far to the waterway from here.”

Henry took a step forward, eyeing the fast-streaming water. How many memories it held at this point, he smiled, and his gaze fell on a cave some ten feet upstream. On a whim, he jumped the river and made his way over, to at last stand in the entrance.

_If you keep moving at that pace the rats will be here before we’ve even departed. _He glanced over to the corner automatically and saw the flier so vividly as if he was really there in that moment. Then his gaze wandered to another wall and Henry furrowed his brows, was it still...?

His feet carried him in, almost on their own, and he cowered down, in front of the wall in question. He barely saw anything from only the glow of the algae, but when he stretched his hand out he could feel them. The marks of his tally. His very first tally. It was still twenty-nine, he smiled.

“Hey, what are you doing in here?” The exiled prince jerked around as Thanatos called from the entrance.

“You’re calling me like in the good old days, eh?”, he mocked, as he made his way over, gesticulating behind him. “Don’t you know where we are?”

Thanatos eyed him with amusement. “Of course I know where we are. We stayed here for some month or so, back when we had first left the rat’s land.” He followed Henry outside. “The part I don’t understand is, why that matters now.”

The exiled prince shrugged. “I mean... it doesn’t really. It’s just, this place, it’s... it’s kind of a place we always end up coming back to. We spent our first month in the Dead Land here. Then, of course, we were captured to fight for Splintleg, but we returned with Platonius and Curie before we took them home.”

He plopped down at the river and drew Mys to dissect one of the fish Thanatos had caught to eat.

“And, you don’t know that, but while you were held prisoner, I camped only some ten minutes trek from here after leaving the crawler island.” He pointed the dagger downstream into a narrow tunnel. “And now”, he turned his gaze back on the flier, “now we’re here AGAIN. We briefly stayed, what, five minutes from here, before we flew for Regalia? Not even!”

Thanatos’ gaze at him was pensive. “I... guess you’re right. I never gave it a conscious thought, honestly. I mean, it is a strategically sensible hideout, despite how close the rats’ land is. Not many of them ever come here, as our patrols back then proved.”

Henry tilted his head. “I... guess, yeah.” He hadn’t really meant it that way, but the flier had a point.

He caught himself staring at the entrance of their old cave and smiled. His own emotions from then, his confusion and fear, his reluctance, yet also satisfaction, flooded him and he looked back at Thanatos – what had he thought when they had first stayed here? That their alliance hadn’t exactly turned out as he had expected. What was it even he’d had expected? Back then, he hadn’t known. But now...?

It was this, Henry thought, this... whatever they were now. To his own surprise, he failed to find words to describe their relationship. What came closest was friendship, then again, friends were not as committed to each other as he and the flier were at this point. At least not usually.

And that after having specifically made a rule to prevent it from becoming a commitment. Yet apparently, even your own rules were made to be broken – in some cases.

It was a weird relationship, Henry mindlessly nibbled on his fish. A friendship that was an alliance, that was also a commitment, and... and what? He angrily squinted his eyes, he was overthinking this. What did it even matter what you would call it, it was what it was.

Because I’ve never had a relationship of this sort before, he suddenly thought. Not with anyone who was not family, a flier even.

A flier who was not his bond.

Henry picked at the fish. Formerly, he would have had a word for their relationship – he would have called it a bond. But they were not bonds. Would they even ever be? He grinned, not if things continued in this manner, they wouldn’t.

Not if Thanatos had meant what he had said, back on the boat. He eyed the flier and sighed. He had serious attitude issues, but Henry thought it was just the way he was. Thanatos without attitude was like a rat without its tail.

Then again, why would they even NEED to bond formally? It seemed to work without perfectly well, whatever this friendship, alliance, or what else you would call it, was. And it even undermined his skepticism towards bonding, he had developed after Ares had let him fall.

Henry frowned. The issue lied not with bonding in general, it lied in the essence of a relationship like that. A formal ceremony and a few pretty words did not really make someone your bond. Or more specifically, they did not create the sort of relationship everyone spoke of when describing a bond.

The realization was frightening yet eye-opening in so many ways Henry forgot to chew for a few heartbeats. Was this why not everyone had a bond? Why some looked for years, decades, to eventually find someone suitable – or not? It must be. He had never understood their issue, never given it any thought. Until now.

Then, an even more earthshattering thought crossed his mind – it also seemed to explain what had gone wrong with him and Ares.

Henry felt himself taken back to the day after his fourteenth birthday. Luxa had been only ten, four years younger than the customary age was, yet they had both spoken the familiar words to their fliers that day.

_Ares the flier I bound to you._

He had said them, yet how much of it had he even meant? How much of it had he... understood? Had his fourteen-year-old-self even remotely grasped what he had promised there?

Henry gritted his teeth. Of course he had not. He had committed to something he’d had no idea about, not really. Not in terms of what it meant, nor what it entailed, nor what exactly it expected of him.

Yes, he and Ares had grown fairly close over time. Yes they’d had fun together, had played their troublemaker-game, gossiped, and made fun of everyone – the only thing they had never done was have a serious, personal conversation. Not because there had been nothing to talk about, but because Henry hadn’t ever thought of Ares as someone to share those sort of things with.

In a way, he’d had his own definition of what a bond was supposed to be, and in retrospect, he nearly laughed at how ridiculous it had been. But how could he have known better? The only thing that had even remotely conflicted with his blissfully wrong understanding of the concept of a bond, that had indicated his and Ares’ relationship was different from the norm, had been Luxa and Aurora.

Had he envied Luxa for her connection with Aurora? Of course he had. He had envied her for nearly everything. It was ridiculous – Luxa was younger than he, yet a part of him had always wanted what she had. All of it.

It was made so much more complicated by how close they had been – like he had found himself with a second little sister. Only this little sister had had everything he’d ever wanted – admiration, attention, a clear and desirable future, varied and plentiful talents, and a bond who was an actual bond. A little sister he had envied beyond belief – and yet loved unconditionally.

A little sister he had betrayed.

Angrily, Henry shook his head. There was no point in dwelling on Luxa now. She was far away – or not as far as he had thought. She was here, in fact, somewhere on a boat sailing the waterway, as was Ares.

Ares and Gregor.

Henry tilted his head. How in the world had that even happened? The image of those two having to put up with each other seemed so ridiculous it almost made him laugh. They shared nothing – nothing except that one moment when Ares had saved his life. Or did they? He had no way of telling, but it hardly mattered. What mattered was that he found, as much as it amused him, it did not bother him. Not even in the slightest.

It was strange. For the longest time, he had assumed he would spend his life at Ares’ side, and now that the flier had made this same commitment to another, he found he couldn’t care less. Well, if Ares found Gregor understood him better than Henry, they should have each other. It wasn’t any of his concern.

The exile prince sighed and finally raised his gaze from the pebble he had mindlessly stared at, only to notice Thanatos had fallen asleep on the floor, exactly where he had landed. He barely suppressed a laugh and tossed the fishbones into the river. He’s earned it, Henry thought, after how much he’s been flying recently, and got as comfortable as he could at the shore, to keep watch.

“Hey, why don’t we stay here again for a while?”

Henry raised his gaze at Thanatos, in the middle of packing away the torch he had used to grill breakfast. The flier had slept for a couple hours only, but he had woken up with a ginormous appetite. “I...”, he hesitantly looked around, “Yeah, I think I like that.”

“Yes”, the flier hummed, leaping across the river, “as we’ve established yesterday, it is safe – surprisingly so, even.”

Henry tossed the device to make the torch stand into his backpack and grinned. “Well, yeah, but”, he raised his gaze to look in the direction of their old cave, “that’s not exactly what I was getting at!”

“And... what WERE you getting at?”

“I... I mean...” Henry jumped to his feet and spun around, taking in the memories he had of this place, from various stages of his exile. His suppressed anger and frustration from their first month here, his joy and pride from the victory in the arena, his uncertainty yet determination to save Thanatos, and his... He stopped in his tracks abruptly. His... what? What was the most recent emotion he held for this place even?

Content? He glanced at the flier who watched him in a mix of confusion and amusement. Was he contented? Was he... at peace?

“It’s a hallmark”, he finally uttered, recalling his thoughts from the day before. “Like, a hallmark for how far I’ve come, kind of. Each memory I have from here feels like it belongs to a different version of me, a different Henry.” He let out a dismissive snort. “Ha! Or do you not remember how scared and confused I was when we first came here?”

The flier tilted his head. “Oh, I certainly do. Though, don’t you think it would be a little excessive to –”, but Henry cut him off, “Death, look at me! It’s been some give or take half a year, and here I am!” He laughed almost hysterically. “Back then I worried for whether I could afford to hope to live and see the next day! Imagine!”

The flier remained silent, but Henry barely noticed. “And not just that. I’ve done it. Death, I’ve done it! What I wanted, I’ve done it! I wanted to prove I was more than the traitor they remember me as, and so I did!”

He grinned ear to ear, his stance was more confident than it had been in a long time. Only now he grasped the full meaning of what he had truly accomplished over the waterway.

“Death, it was a success! It worked, just as I hoped! And do you know what this means?”, he barely prevented a joyful leap. His mind began to reel with possibilities, maybe... maybe all of this wasn’t so far out of reach after all. “This doesn’t have to be the end! Imagine – all we’d have to do is keep ourselves informed on what is going on, quest-wise, and we could make this a thing! Ha!”

For a moment he saw himself, the masked guardian of the questers, who appeared to save them from life-threatening peril. Who they would revere, praise a hero, who they would display their utmost gratitude and admiration for. “Death, we could –!”

“Henry –!”

“WHAT?!” He spun around to the flier and put his hands to his hips. “WHAT? You can’t possibly disagree, can you??”

Thanatos’ face was grave, a vast contrast to Henry’s carefree grin. He visibly clenched his jaw. “Of course not. You’ve come far, there is no denying that. But Henry”, he stared into the steadily streaming water, “You are getting ahead of yourself. Think for a moment, will you? They chased you off, they refused your help. How can you... call that a success?”

Henry blinked at the flier. “You... did you not hear what Gregor said? What Mareth said?” His mood had been so great, but he found it instantly deteriorating. “We SAVED Gregor’s LIFE!”, he yelled, “We... we achieved... SOMETHING! We must have! Who cares if they sent us away, they will remember me, Death! They WILL REMEMBER ME!” He knew it was unwise to scream, so close to the rat’s land, but how could the flier not understand?

“THEY WILL REMEMBER ME! For... for saving Gregor! For SOMETHING! They have to!” If they did not, it had all been for nothing. It had all been...

“Except, Henry, you are forgetting one thing.” The flier, at last, raised his gaze at him and the exiled prince was surprised at how cold and resolute it was. “They will not remember you.”

“... what?”

He knew exactly what the flier meant. Of course he did. But it was not true. In his head, he screamed at Thanatos, do not dare say it, don’t you dare, but of course, the flier did not hear.

“They will remember a strange outcast with a mask made from a rat skull. Not... Henry.”

The exiled prince stared at him, mouth agape, unable to respond. Does it matter, flashed in his head, does it matter if they remember me as a stranger or as Henry? If I can be their unknown savior, maybe it will not matter. Maybe –

“Why does this... BOTHER you so much?” A quick glance at the flier showed he had stood up now. The gaze from his amber eyes was unreadable. “What does it even matter? What does it matter what they think of you?” He shook his head, “What does it matter, whether they remember you or not?”

The exiled prince stared at him, unable to answer, to express his now raging emotions in coherent words.

The flier scoffed. “Of course. You know, you told me you wanted to do this for YOURSELF earlier. And you know what I thought? I thought, oh how far he has come, how much humility he has learned. But of course, it was all only a pretty coat of words. You’re an attention-seeking sycophant who lives of nothing but the praise of others, and that is why you insisted on doing this! On risking our lives, for what? Your oversized EGO?!”

“What...?” Henry inevitably drew back, gawking at Thanatos. His thoughts reeled. They had argued countless times, but for the first time, he could not even begin to grasp what the... issue was. What in the world had him so furious? He had done nothing, had he? Henry desperately combed his mind for anything, a wrong word, something that had kickstarted this argument. Last he remembered he had happily expressed ideas, and now something had the flier trembling in anger, screaming at him – for... what?

“What... what is your PROBLEM?”, he finally blurted out, “What did I –?”

“What my problem is?”, Thanatos spat out, “YOU! You are the problem!” He flapped his wings furiously at Henry’s aghast face, “It matters nothing, Henry, not a single damn thing, what you do. Look at yourself, look! You are so caught in your past you can not let go of it. There is no place for you with them anymore, yet you wish to risk your life for them. For a past that has long forgotten you!”

He took a deep breath. “Are you truly so STUPID you don’t realize – it matters jack shit what you do – you will NEVER be part of them anymore! And you have no one but yourself to thank for that!”

In two steps Henry was at his backpack. He yanked it up and shouldered it, turning away in the direction from which they had come. “The Tankard was their destination, Mareth said? Well”, he snorted without looking back. He had no idea what he would do in the Tankard or how he was supposed to get there, but he could not worry about that now. His decision was made. “We’ll see about that.”

“WAIT!”

Henry actually froze in his tracks and spun around, believing he had misheard, at least on the part where he had thought to make out in the flier’s voice, what, desperation?

“Where are you going? What are you – Henry what the hell is this?”

He blinked back at Thanatos, utterly lost on his sudden mood shift... again. There was a type of pungent distress in the flier’s tone he had never heard in him yet. But what did it matter, Henry snorted. What did any of what he said matter?

For a moment his realizations from yesterday flashed in his mind, had he not thought they were so close they could almost be bonds? The idea had him scoff in amusement now. Right. Because bonds started arguments out of nowhere and accused each other of being stupid. Not even Ares had ever done that.

“To do jack shit, is where I’m going.”

“WAIT!”, Thanatos called once more, and Henry jerked back as he landed in his way. “You can not... GO THERE, by YOURSELF! You... you don’t even know the way, Henry, and Mareth spoke of serpents! Serpents! Have you ever even seen one? You can not do any more for them!”

“I can do what I want.” It was his turn now, to be cold. “Do whatever the hell you want, I can not command you, but you can not command me either. And do not worry yourself over my sense of direction. I’m not the helpless kid who was forced to take all the shit from you because he had no better option. I thought we established that earlier.”

The flier dug his claws into the ground with force. “Henry! HENRY!” It was most certainly desperation. “WHY?!”, he cried, “Why are you – surely, even YOUR ego is not large enough to justify this! You do not have to do this, Henry, you have a life out here now, why do you need them? What ARE they to you? What can they STILL OFFER you?! ANSWER ME!”

He narrowed his eyes and felt his own fury boil up for the first time. “The better question is, who do YOU think you are to talk like that?!”, he gritted his teeth, “What they are to me? My family, is who they are! But why did I ever assume you would understand? Of course you wouldn’t – because YOU are NOBODY’S FAMILY!”

The flier froze, eyes widened, but Henry found he was just getting started. The flier had no right to talk like that. “What’s the matter? You forgot or something? Well, here’s your reality check. It’s not your PLACE to stop me, nor to question me, so MOVE!”

But Thanatos did not move. “Of course”, he muttered, his stare permeating like a spear. “And you love them oh so much, your FAMILY. So much you found it worth it at the time to betray them.”

Henry’s jaw dropped. He stared at the flier, taking in the searing fact he had nothing to respond to that.

Thanatos drew closer and narrowed his eyes. “You know what I think? I think you do not care about what happens to them in the slightest. All you care about is making sure they survive so that they can ADMIRE you afterward. You wish so desperately to be a hero, but all you are is a fraud, a selfish, opportunistic FOOL who wears the mask of false pride to hide how much you truly hate yourself!”

Henry was unable to move. He heard the flier’s words through a cloud of mist and tried to comprehend what he had just said, to tell himself this was all a cruel dream.

But it was real.

A clear voice sounded from his mouth, though Henry had no recollection of thinking the words up. “I once said, despite not needing your company anymore, I wanted it. Well – I changed my mind.” He held the flier’s aghast gaze, he looked like he himself could not believe what he had said.

“This... ALLIANCE is over. It’s over and done with. I don’t need you anymore!” A small part of him objected, heavily protested against the words coming from his mouth, crying this was all a huge misunderstanding, yet it was overshadowed by his omnipotent fury.

The exiled prince narrowed his eyes at the flier – he was not HIS flier. And he never would be. “In fact, NOBODY needs you. So how about you CRAWL BACK into the hole you came from – or go to HELL really, I don’t care!” It was what Thanatos had said to him when they had first spoken, all those months ago, and there was something immensely satisfying about being able to say it back.

He was already several paces into the tunnel. This time, Thanatos had not stopped him. “Not if THAT is what you truly think of me!”, he yelled. Instead of waiting for an answer, he quickened his pace until he almost ran. “Not if that is what you truly think of me”, Henry whispered and shut his eyes, fervently attempting to suppress the rising tears.

No – he would not go and cry over the loss of a relationship of which he wasn’t even sure what to call it. It was not worth it. He would be fine on his own – better than before, even. Thanatos had only held him back recently, now he was free to do whatever and risk his life for whoever he wanted, without a nagging voice constantly scolding him or calling him a kid.

Things would be better now – was the last thought he could conceive before the first tear rolled down his cheek.

* * *

Gregor anxiously stared ahead as the boat floated across what appeared to be a giant, round pool, the surface was as smooth and unbroken as a mirror. So this was the Tankard. He didn’t really know what he had expected, but he couldn’t help but have a bad feeling about this.

When he leaned forward to see better, he noticed there were no beaches, the water went straight up to stone walls on all sides. Tunnel openings were dotting the walls, some almost concealed by the waterline, others hundreds of feet up. Gregor inched back and tensed up as in many of them waited a large rat.

No one moved. Not the rats, not the visitors. An eerie silence surrounded them. Then Gregor’s head twitched as he perceived a scraping sound from above.

Splash! Something landed off to their right, spraying a fountain of water into the air.

Splash! Splash! Only as he squinted his eyes at one of them, Gregor realized the rats were tipping boulders out of the tunnels and sending them hurling to the water below. Were they... trying to sink the boat?

“Well, that’s weak. None of the rocks are even getting near us”, Gregor mumbled and shook his head. The boulders were missing them by a mile. He took a deep breath, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. How bad could it be if the rats were launching such a worthless attack?

Splash! Splash! Splash! Splash!

“Something is wrong here”, Luxa appeared next to him. Her gaze was at the rats as well.

Mareth nodded. “Yes, it is not like the gnawers to waste their energies on futile attacks.”

“Not wasting, they are. Not wasting.” Gregor turned to Temp who was anxiously twitching his antennas, to ask what he meant, and in the next moment winced as, from somewhere behind him, Howard screamed – “Get the boat up! Fliers! Get the boat up – now!”

Twitchtip sprang up at nearly the exact same time. “They’re waking! They’re waking! Fly! FLY!”

In the first moment, Gregor frowned, attempting to understand what was going on, but then he remembered Mareth’s question – _What of the serpents? Do they still sleep? _And Twitchtip’s answer - _Yes, but it won’t be long before they surface. And they are deadly._

His gaze darted to the rats in horror – they weren’t trying to sink their boat with the rocks — they were trying to wake the serpents! The tail, Gregor thought, the tail that had peeked out of the waterway, on their way home to Regalia from the quest to save his dad. Well, turns out he would find out who or what it belonged to, after all.

He barely kept himself standing as the boat jerked up. Aurora and Andromeda had latched on to the front ropes, Ares got his claws around the two loops in the back. Gregor gripped the side of the boat and watched Ares struggle to rise and keep the boat balanced.

Pandora, he gritted his teeth at the memory of the pretty red bat and her fate, she should be here, should hold that fourth handle.

But Gregor had no time to mourn as he was almost flung off his feet again when the boat rose even higher and began to spin. “Where to?”, came from all three bats. “Where to?”

“Twitchtip, where lies the tunnel?”, Mareth clutched the pole and attempted to keep their last supply bag from slipping.

“Stop spinning so fast and I’ll tell you – ahh!”, the rat yelled as she lost grip on the side of the boat and slid over to the pole, hitting it with a loud thud. The bats maintained a slower circle and Twitchtip gripped the pole with all fours, then carefully removed a front paw and indicated a tunnel opening opposite from where they had come. “There! The one shaped like an arch!”

Gregor caught it in his flashlight beam – oh how glad he was he had taped them onto everyone’s arms in advance. It was only about six feet high, and... you could’ve swum right into it. “But it’s half underwater! Does it even have a floor?”

“Further in. Look, this is no time to be picky”, snapped Twitchtip. “The serpents are —!”

Bam! All questers simultaneously screamed as something hit the side of the boat, ripping away a chunk of it. Gregor was knocked sideways, losing grip and hitting the opposite side with his back. He saw stars for a second and the boat rocked as the bats barely hung on.

Had it been one of the rocks the rats were still throwing? Gregor slowly inched up to see, only to widen his eyes in horror. “Oh! Oh, geez!”

So, they’re not extinct after all, was his first thought. He meant dinosaurs, but, on second glance, that wasn’t quite right – dinosaurs walked on land. The creature rising in front of him propelled itself with flippers. Some kind of aquatic reptile then, but surely as old as the dinosaurs, and as big as the biggest skeletons at the museum in New York.

Its body was a flattened oval. A whiplike tail, the same he had seen before, beat the water, disturbing the calm pool. Gregor swallowed. He’d been so much better off not knowing what was attached to it.

The neck was at least thirty feet long, and atop its sinuous, scaly pink length sat a bullet-shaped head. There were indentations where eyes might have been, somewhere in the creature’s evolution, but they were long gone. What use were eyes to it down here, after all?

Its mouth opened, letting loose a low howl that chilled Gregor right down to his DNA. And then his light hit the teeth. Hundreds and hundreds of teeth in three rows headed their way.

Gregor closed his eyes in anticipation of the hit, but it never came. He only looked again when he thought he made out a light, somewhere up the steep cliff, differing from the artificial beams of the flashlights.

Then he heard Luxa’s scream, a mix of excitement and confusion, and followed her pointed finger with his eyes.

Gregor had to blink multiple times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, but no – there, in one of the higher openings in the wall, stood a figure. He held the light source, it appeared to be some sort of torch, and seemingly teetered on the edge of the opening. Below him, the sea with the dinosaur-monsters, and before Gregor could shout or even breathe – he jumped.

He watched his fall, like in slow-motion. Only when the figure was about halfway down, he realized the thing he was holding wasn’t a torch – it was a sword. A sword that was... on fire.

_A legend, Overlander,_ Nerissa’s words rang in his ears, _an old tale of a deathly figure wielding a burning sword._

A burning... “His SWORD BURNS!”, Mareth screamed from further back, and Gregor knew they were all watching the scene. Then the serpent in front of them caught his attention as it tore its mouth open to take a bite from the ship, but before it could close it, the guy, the outcast, the _Death Rider_ – dug his flaming sword into its neck.

The impact broke his fall and the creature gave a primeval roar, trying to shake him, but he had his sword lodged deep in its neck. It moved not an inch, not even as the serpent swung its head around, producing bone-rattling sounds.

Instead of seeking a way to jump down, the Death Rider encircled its elongated neck with his legs and, at last, pulled the still burning sword out, to swing it through the air frantically.

“He is RIDING THE SERPENT!”, Howard’s screamed next to Gregor.

“It IS the Death Rider...”, Luxa whispered, next to him. Despite the dire situation, he saw in her eyes she currently harbored much admiration for the stranger. “I want a sword like that...”

Gregor shook his head. Of course she did. He himself wasn’t even comfortable with normal swords. To light them on fire would only make things worse, really.

Then, Gregor screamed as an enormous force hit the boat from below – and it split in half. A different serpent had come up right underneath them, and Gregor heard Mareth choke out – “Abandon ship!” before the floor broke right under his feet. Gregor wrapped his arms around the side of the boat, to not fall. For a split second, he was impressed Mareth had managed to form a coherent sentence at all, then he heard a tiny scream.

He barely managed to slide over and scoop Boots and his pack in one swoop and stumble for Ares, but then Mareth called – “JUMP!”

Gregor managed to process he meant to jump off the side of the boat – of course, it was the only way the bats could catch them. He abandoned his initial plan and scrambled up onto the edge, Boots’ tiny arms encircling his neck tightly.

“One — two — three!” Gregor’s legs pushed off the boat, and then it was gone, but Ares was under them immediately. The bat dipped and swerved, and Temp landed behind them. The roach was shaking like a leaf. Well, who wasn’t?

For a moment, Gregor clung to Ares’ fur, attempting to control his own trembling, before he raised his gaze. Everyone’s flashlights were on high beam now, and he helplessly watched the single torch they had hit the water with a sizzle.

Then he looked ahead and found a prehistoric nightmare unfold before him. Half a dozen serpents had broken the surface of the pool now, and Gregor had a feeling more were coming. They were swinging their heads and tails, trying to take down whatever they could. They had no eyes, so Gregor guessed they had some other direction system, maybe even echolocation.

For a moment, Gregor considered whether he should try drawing his sword, but it would be of no use. He could not fight them, only cling to Ares’ back as the bat dodged the heads and tails frantically.

Where was the Death Rider? Gregor saw the masked figure with the flaming sword before his inner eye and tilted his head in search of a light that differed from the flashlight beams. There he was – still sitting on the neck of the serpent, swinging his flaming sword for the heads of the others. It was probably the only way one could even attempt to fight them.

Gregor had no idea what he was doing here – but a wave of gratitude he had come, despite them sending him away, washed over him. _We help where we can_, he had said – and apparently he had meant it, too.

But as he watched him send a serpent under, hissing in pain, he processed something wasn’t right. Why was he here alone? Where was his bat – Thanatos?

Before Gregor had the time to dwell on it, Ares took a sharp turn right, to dodge the head of a serpent, almost knocking Gregor off.

As he slowly regained his senses and loosened his grip on Boots, whom he had clutched so hard she could barely breathe, he caught glimpses at Mareth and Howard on Andromeda, Luxa on Aurora... but where was Twitchtip?

Gregor heard a shriek and turned his head to see her dangling from a serpent’s mouth by the tail. “Go, Ares!”, he cried, and the bat flew straight for the rat. Gregor, at last, drew his sword to attack when a tail caught Ares broadside and sent them hurling. He was knocked off Ares’ back and both the sword and Boots flew from his arms. “BOOTS! NO!”, Gregor yelled, “Ares! Get her, ARES!”, as he desperately beat the air with his arms.

But the bat caught him first. “Aurora has her!”, Ares hissed before Gregor could panic, “Aurora has her and Temp!”

“Get in the tunnels!”, Howard shouted as Andromeda whizzed by. “The tunnels!” In horror, Gregor registered he sat upright on the bat, trying to hold on to an unconscious, bloody Mareth.

But before he could ask for the soldier, he caught a glimpse at Aurora’s golden fur. She whizzed past the serpent who still had the Death Rider on his back and for a moment Boots’ little face peeked over Luxa’s shoulder.

Gregor sighed in relief but nearly had a heart attack when a different serpent came up in front of Aurora, tearing its ginormous mouth open for an earthshattering scream.

The golden bat took a sharp turn but Gregor saw she wouldn’t make it. She would not make it, not Aurora, not Luxa, and not... “BOOTS!”, he cried at the top of his lungs. But before Ares even had the time to react, out of nowhere a flaming blade appeared and struck the serpent. It whizzed directly across the monster’s face, sending specks of blood flying at them.

The Death Rider – he must have leaped across. The serpent he had just been riding was reaching its neck so far out of the water it rose above the other, he could have easily reached it.

As the serpent turned its anger at the Death Rider, Aurora gained seconds to dodge, and performed such a narrow twist Gregor was surprised Luxa managed to hang on – but she escaped.

Everything after happened like in slow motion. He fell – the Death Rider, he had not his bat, he had nothing to hold on to. Gregor heard himself scream at Ares to catch him, but they were too far away.

He let go of his sword, it was flung at the wall like a fiery lightning bolt and landed in a tunnel opening further up. But the Death Rider – Gregor’s eyes widened in horror as his hand latched onto one of the serpent’s saber-like front teeth, hanging from its open mouth, of all things. He desperately clung to it, pulled himself up – but ended up with his head between the serpent’s jaws when they jolted shut.

* * *

_So, you will really sit idle, allowing him to scamper off on his own, into a battle against serpents? Ha! You know what, for once, you actually managed to surprise me._

The flier’s head jerked up. He unbelievingly stared at the spot where the boy had sat, not even so long ago, cross-legged as always, his dagger in a fish, but he had not misheard. It was not the boy. He furrowed his brows, of course not.

It was the girl.

_Do not act so surprised, you look like you’ve seen a GHOST!_ Her laughter rang painfully loud in his ears and he averted his eyes. _Oh come on, _she crept into his vision. _You would have laughed had HE made the joke!_

What was the meaning of this, the flier dared to look again, he had not seen her in... Guilt suddenly swept over him, he had not seen her in such a long time. Not ever since...

_Of course you’ve not seen me, _she tilted her head, her wild curls barely tamed by a ponytail, as always. _And I was so happy with that too! Finally, some peace and quiet from your incessant pessimism._

The flier rolled his eyes. Why was she even here now? She had only ever appeared when he had felt so broken he had been convinced there was no fixing him – but now?

_Oh, you know why I’m here, stupid! _She put her hands to her hips. _I’m here for the same reason as always, of course – because you’re being a moron who needs me to kick your lazy ass to go and do the right thing!_

The flier angrily narrowed his eyes. Right. The RIGHT thing? The right thing now was to remain here. _NOBODY needs you, _he winced as, instead of the girl, the boy spoke._ So how about you CRAWL BACK into the hole you came from – or go to HELL really, I don’t care!_

He attempted to calm his shaking breaths. _NOBODY needs you. Nobody... nobody..._

_Oh, cut it out, will you? We both know he did not ACTUALLY mean that. Just as I am CERTAIN you didn’t mean what YOU said either._

The flier angrily shook his head. There were so many voices, so many tangled strings of emotions, he felt unable to sort them out by himself.

_I can honestly not believe it, _she sighed. _There I was, claiming your reason would not magically fall from the sky – I have never been so glad to have been wrong, to be honest._

He was... his reason. The flier allowed his body to grow limp. He had been... his reason. He was not anymore. He was gone.

He forced himself to look, to fixate the spot where he had sat. She was not there anymore, he could not see her. He could not see the girl – and he could not see the boy either. Why was the boy not here?

His lids fluttered, the boy, he should be here. He had to be here. If he was not here... _NOBODY needs you. _The words burned like a seal of hot iron someone was pressing into his heart._ NOBODY needs you._

_Of course he needs you! _The flier bothered not to open his eyes. He wanted not to see her. He wanted not to look, to see the empty beach, to be reminded of... _And he would still be here too, had you a better grasp on your own emotions, moron._

The flier’s head jerked up, at last. _Hey, what’s that look supposed to mean? You know I am right. Or have we not passed that stage of denial yet?_

The flier gritted his teeth, but the voice of the girl only laughed. _What was it – you only saved him to save your own conscience? That was the top level, I believe. It took to get captured by spinners to get over that and admit your place was at his side._

He wanted to scream at the voice to shut up but barely mustered up the strength to comprehend the words. Why was he so powerless all of a sudden? He had nearly flown over the waterway, only a few days ago. In anger at himself, the flier rose and spread his wings, only to almost collapse again. His energy levels had not been this low in a long time.

The boy did not care for him. He clenched his jaw, barely keeping himself standing. He only cared for himself. His sympathy was wasted on him, so why should he bother?

_Is that seriously what you think? _She sounded scolding. _Because if so, your social skills are even worse than I assumed. You criticize him for his lacking sensitivity, yet start an argument over something as pointless as the fact that he cares for his family? What are you scared of, _she called, _what is it? That he might actually find his place with them again someday, and for what will happen to you then?_

The flier tore his eyes open, despite there being nothing to look at. It had been him, it had been his fault. All of it. The boy would still be here, had he not... not what?

_... not panicked over something conjured up by your own mind? Yeah, sounds like you, alright. Still the incessant overthinker, as you always were. Remember how long it took me to get you to trust me as much as you trust him now? _She laughed, _under normal circumstances, I would be a little jealous, but I have not seen you so happy in such a long time. In all honesty, I had nearly given up hope._

The flier blinked, she? Give up hope? _Yes. Yes, I... that is how desperate I was. _She sighed. _But then you found hope again, and I with you._

The flier was shaking. It was... this was all so unreal. The boy was not the girl. He would never be her. Never be like her.

_Of course not, _she scoffed, _and he doesn’t have to be. He is he and I am... or was... I. But I am your past. You accuse him of clinging to his past, yet you attempt to hold on to yours, to me, as well. And that when your future is right here, only you are too blind, or too proud to see!_

No. He shook his head, almost stumbling into the river as his legs gave way. There was no future. Was there a... future?

_Of course there is, moron! _She yelled now. _And he is currently out there, somewhere, on his own, fighting a battle with serpents! Because YOU allowed it! Because you found it was the best to stay here, put on your ass, and let him go!_

They could only ever run into certain death together – the boy’s words from back then rang in his ears and the flier tensed up. They could only...

_Exactly! Will you honestly allow him to do it by himself?! _She screamed. _Do you not realize he thinks he has to PROVE something?! And there is nobody in the world who knows better what that entails than you and I – Thanatos!_

The flier’s head darted up as a jolt of panic pierced him. What... what had he done? “He’s going to get himself killed”, he mumbled, rising to his feet. “He’s going to...” _Oh, he is, _her voice was accusing, _unless you – YOU – do something about it. Now._

Thanatos struggled to control his weakened body, yet at the thought of Henry in the grasp of a serpent, he felt a fresh surge of energy.

He flung himself in the air and she yelled after him – _Go make it right, moron! And make it right PROPERLY! For, if you do not make this right, I will NEVER FORGIVE YOU!_

Never had Thanatos loathed his own wingspan as much as now. Every time his wing scraped a wall, every detour he had to take, every tight corner he could barely fit, felt like another useless nuisance in his way – in his way for Henry.

He was the only thing on his mind, urging him forward, every second he lost with travel was a second in which the boy could be injured, could be killed, in his absence, anything could happen, and the flier’s mind spared him not a single gruesome detail of all the things a fully-grown serpent could do to Henry.

Was the girl right, he suddenly asked himself, when she claimed he had begun to care? How was any of this real? How was anything that had happened over the last half a year even real? How was the boy real?

He shot like a furious projectile through yet another tight shaft. The Labyrinth was hard to traverse, but that was the least of his concerns now. For the first time in what felt like ages, he had a clear goal, an aim, a... purpose. What he had to do lied ahead of him, clear as light, and he would do whatever it took. Whatever it took, to save the stupid boy from the serpents. From himself.

What even was this weird relationship they had? Sometimes he felt as though they were friends, but there were also times when he wondered whether his dedication to the boy was one-sided. What was he to him? An ally? A friend? Or only a means to an end?

His teeth gritted at the thought, yet all worries disintegrated in an instant as he first made out the sounds. He had only ever engaged a serpent once, back with the girl, yet their screams had etched themselves into his mind so perfectly he would have recognized them anywhere.

Please, let the idiot be okay, he prayed, nearly colliding with the wall bordering a coiling path. Please let that not have been the last conversation we would ever have. He only recalled fractions of it anymore, yet what he remembered shook him to his core. It was not how he would lose him. He gritted his teeth tighter, determination oozing into every ounce of his body. It was not over. Not if he had anything to say about it.

When Thanatos finally shot out into the open over the Tankard, he barely dodged the mouth of one of the creatures, twisting himself upward. For a moment he hovered above the nightmarish scene, taking in the destroyed boat, the fliers with the party on their backs, dodging the serpents, but his eyes only searched for Henry.

Then his ears vibrated as one of the serpents gave a bestial roar and, from the corner of his eye, Thanatos, at last, spotted the shape of a flaming sword – Henry.

He dodged a tail as he darted in his direction, yet what happened next had his heart skip a beat. Between the lights that sparked before his eyes he only registered fragments – the boy dangling from the tooth of a living serpent – it was the serpent, it was its jaws – they shut.

The audible crack of bone. A singular, high-pitched scream that vibrated his ears. There was a mask, no... it was two, two pieces of mask, dropping into the foaming waves, bitten in half by the jaw of the serpent. There was the body of the boy in its mouth, before the serpent let go and he fell, fell into the roaring sea, after his mask.

Something inside Thanatos’ head short-circuited. There was only the monster – and the handle of Henry’s sword. In a second he had spotted it in one of the tunnel entrances and closed his jaws around the handle. With the still burning blade in his mouth, he zoomed in on the serpent, and in one swift strike slit its throat.

It screamed in pain but Thanatos hardly cared. He tossed the sword back into a random tunnel entry – and dove after Henry.


	25. Reason

The water relentlessly tugged at the flier, dragging him into the depths. He was not a versed swimmer, like most fliers, he avoided water whenever he could. But what was some water against Henry’s life?

He could barely think straight, all that replayed before his inner eye was the serpent over and over, the skull mask it had bitten in half, and the scream... the boy... the water... the boy!

The flier fought his battle against the waves valiantly, yet only by his echolocation located the shape, the body, floating, being dragged under by gravity.

Mobilizing the last of his strength, the flier latched onto his arm and used his wings to propel them upward. They weren’t made for swimming and he felt a jolt of pain at the considerably stronger resistance of the water, in comparison to air, but it mattered little. It mattered not what he had to face, if he had to endure pain, he would do it in an instant. All that mattered was the boy.

His air had nearly run out and his lungs burned when his head finally broke the surface. The flier desperately attempted to maneuver himself out of the water, so that the boy in his claw could breathe, but he had little control over his wet wings.

Panic threatened to overwhelm him when he processed he couldn’t fly – couldn’t save the boy, couldn’t do what he had to, what he had to... He screamed at the top of his vocal frequency, the eerie soundwave echoed from the water and the walls, enraging the serpents even further.

Too late the flier realized, as creatures relying on echolocation, they must hear the sound, and as the large tide, caused by their anger, hit him, he was powerless to escape.

He barely registered the shine of metal in the tunnel to his right and spread his wing, in an attempt to maneuver. The wave caught him and Henry instantly and propelled them forward – into the tunnel.

The flier was spun around by the angry water, it ripped the boy from his grip, yet before he could scream again, he was engulfed and swallowed water. For the first time in his life, he found himself without his sense of direction – no up, no down, no left, no right – only foaming, livid waves. He could not fight, not act, not think – then the current smashed him into the floor, so hard he blacked out for a moment.

Furious pain jolted through his left wing as he hit the ground and barely registered he wasn’t moving anymore. The wave had died down, leaving him as refuse on the stone floor. He knew not whether he even had the strength to move anymore.

I am... unmoving... cold... eternal... He barely had enough spirit to think the words. He wished to be unmoving... to embrace the cold... to remain eternal. He wished not to think, not to hurt, not to...

As his body grew limp, he relaxed his rigidly closed claw. His claw, his claw felt... empty. Had it always been empty? There was a hand around it, a hand... Her hand. No. His hand. His arm. His... lifelessly floating body. His... Henry.

The flier jolted up, releasing another scream beyond any audible frequency. His head throbbed and spun and he retched, regurgitating a swell of water, but his own physical condition was the least of his worries now.

The boy. Where was the boy... where was... Henry?

Mobilizing all the willpower he had left he lifted himself up – but nearly collapsed as he tried supporting himself on his left wing. The flier had no strength to scream anymore, even as the sharp pain permeated him. He kept his eyes open somehow, maneuvering himself to lean on the wall.

His wing... his wing? Only as he consciously tried using his eyes to see what was wrong with it he registered he could see at all. Puddles of water had remained from the flood, they glowed furiously, like the algae was complaining about being forced from its natural habitat.

The eerie light stood in harsh contrast to the darkness of the tunnel and threw shadows at the wall. It was bright enough to see though, and as the flier inspected his wing, he knew he... they had a problem. The far end of his wing was bent upward in an unnatural angle – broken.

Yet the worst part was not the bone. It wasn’t even that much, only a couple inches at the very end. Nothing a splint and some time wouldn’t fix. But whether what else he saw could be fixed, he could not even begin to say.

In horror, the flier stared at his wing, carefully moving it to make sure it was indeed his, and fervently fought the uprising panic. The tissue – around the broken bone, an entire chunk was... gone.

He cautiously raised it, waved it up and down, to check if he could still move, and barely suppressed a pained cry. Instead of leaving it, he was only fueled by the pain, determined to not let it stop him.

The flier lifted himself from the wall and leaped in the air, attempting to do what he had done his entire life – to fly. Yet even though he disregarded the searing pain, he nearly crashed into the opposing wall, as his wings were unbalanced, one covered more air than the other.

He spun around, blindly flailing, hitting the wall after all and lying still for a moment, allowing the pain to seep into every ounce of his body. He could not fly... Would he fly again? Back over the waterway, there had been a moment, one sweet moment when he had believed – truly and honestly believed he would make it. All the way. Be the first to...

He could not lose his ability to fly, not before he had... He had wanted to cross the waterway. He had wanted to... to fly them out. Them. Himself and... His head jerked up and Henry’s face flashed in his mind.

A wave of violent self-loathing hit him, crumbling his last remaining spirit. What was he doing here, whining over a stupid dream, when the boy was here, here... somewhere. When the boy needed him. _NOBODY needs you, _it rang in his ears, painfully loud, yet he chased it. The boy needed him. He needed him, for who else would be there for him now?

He is all that counts, the flier pulled himself up, eyes searching for the boy. He is all that ever counted. He has a future. He... is the future. Worry for whether you can fly him out of here, not for your own damn pride.

The flier staggered forward, deeper into the tunnel, he had to fly him out. Whether he would damage his wing beyond hope was irrelevant, whether he would ever fly again after today was irrelevant. All he knew was that he would fly one last time – whatever the cost.

The boy, where was he? Where was... the flier thought the name consciously, then screamed it out – “HENRY!”

Henry.

Then the flier, at last, spotted the figure of the boy, maybe fifteen feet further into the tunnel. It were the most agitating fifteen feet of his life, yet he combatted the pain with all his will, it did not matter. The boy mattered. Henry mattered. Henry...

“Henry?”, he coughed out as he cowered over him.

Nothing.

The boy lied awfully still, and another wave of panic engulfed the flier, worse than before. What if he had been too late?

He trembled violently and screamed, barely forcing his voice into a frequency Henry could hear.

He had been too late, it rang in his mind, his body had been shattered on impact with the floor. He had drowned in the water. He had... been injured by the serpent. He was... he was...

There was blood, the flier jerked back instinctively as the outskirts of the bloody puddle the boy lied in reached his claws. So much blood.

No, he resisted the urge to close his eyes, to shut the image out. To undo it. What he could not see was not real.

“HENRY!” He cared not if the gnawers or the questers heard him. His voice barely obeyed him anyway. All he wanted was for the boy to finally answer. To move. To show him, to prove him wrong, when the flier assumed he was... No. It could not be true. Not with how their last conversation had ended. _You are NOBODY’S FAMILY, _the boy’s voice cried in his head. _NOBODY needs you! _It could not have been... It could not end like this.

Using sheer willpower the flier managed to lift his head and shake the boy, he surely must wake from that. He always complained so much about being woken early, but he needed to get up now.

“You need to get up”, the flier mumbled, “Henry, get up. Now is not the time for sleeping. Wake up, Henry!” His voice grew louder with the second until he was nearly screaming.

Could he even breathe? The flier instinctively rolled him around to lie on his back, to allow him more air. Yet as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and focused on his face for the first time, the flier jolted back in utter terror.

His scream was high-pitched and violent, on a frequency inaudible for his surroundings and his back blindly hit the wall. He pressed against it, not leaving the boy out of sight, until his brain had processed what his eyes were showing him. What... the serpent had done to the boy. To Henry.

A few heartbeats later he dared to look again, fervently hoping it had only been the lighting playing tricks on him. But as he cautiously extended a claw, hesitant to even touch him, he was faced with the same horror as before.

Unable to control his own body he collapsed over Henry, turning his face away to not see, in vain. He saw everything, as the image had burned itself onto his inner eye and he failed to shake it, to see anything else other than Henry’s face.

Thick, dark blood oozing, dripping to the floor, coloring his pale skin red. So much blood, it smeared the boy’s hair and shirt, could it all truly originate from only... He had barely made out Henry’s features beneath the blood, maybe he had been wrong. Maybe his eye had only been closed, covered. But where was the blood coming from then?

He shuddered, taking in the image of the dark liquid, pouring from the eye... the socket. “Henry”, he whispered, shaking him again. Called his name. Over and over, shaking him, calling him, shaking... calling...

No response.

In a last desperate attempt to wake him, at all costs, he dug his talon into Henry’s bare arm and winced as he sensed a shiver run through his body, then a first cough.

Despite what he still saw in the boy’s face, the flier was engulfed in a wave of relief. He lived, he lived... Henry lived. He even moved his arm now, three red lines marked it from where the flier had applied his claws, but he had no time to feel regret as the boy reached his hand up, for support. He caught it with his claw and pulled him up into a sitting position.

Henry coughed desperately, the blood from his face specked the ground beneath and the flier’s fur. His hand was rigidly closed around the flier’s claw, the flier registered it was shaking, then he leaned over and vomited.

Henry threw up multiple times, emptying his stomach of all the water he had swallowed. When eventually, nothing came anymore, he remained kneeling in the same position, bent over the remains of his stomach’s contents, still frantically heaving and retching. His grip on the flier’s claw was so strong it almost hurt, like it was a lifeline.

All the flier could do was let him hold on, relishing the joy the boy was alive, until he registered the coughing had turned to sobbing. The flier instantly felt a wave of helplessness – he attempted to search his reeling mind for what he should do, what he even could do.

The boy was crying, he had to do something, yet his mind was blank. Panic rose in him, anger at himself – he is crying, he is... A glance at the boy confirmed his wretched state. Was he really... what? Sixteen? Seventeen? The flier took in the shaking figure holding onto his claw. In the dim light, he looked so... small. Like a child, a child who had just nearly died a horrific death. Who needed comfort. His comfort.

Forcefully, he shook all worries about what the serpent had done to Henry and tried to focus all his thoughts on the fact that he was alive. He was alive, and everything would be okay. It had to be. If only he could do this. Then everything would be okay. They could forget the whole stupid argument, for all he cared. They would be a team again, as they had always been. If only he could do this. If only he could do... what?

Lost on what else to do, the flier simply remained where he was, allowing Henry to cry, to hold on. He cried until he had used up all his energy and, at last, fell limp, so much so the flier had to catch him to prevent a collision with the floor. He cradled the boy in his wing and another wave of anxiety at how small, how fragile he seemed, hit him.

The boy pressed his face into him, still gripping his claw, the nails of the other hand dug into the flier’s fur. “W...ho... who is there?” His voice was barely a quiet whimper and another wave of fear hit the flier at the words. Why would Henry ask...?

“I’m here... It’s me”, he forcefully steadied his voice, attempted to sound calm. “Me! Tha– Death, Henry... it’s Death! DEATH! Can’t you see me...?”

He knew not why he was using the strange yet plausible nickname the boy had given him, perhaps to convince him he was speaking the truth. Perhaps for comfort. He found himself wishing nothing more than to hear it from the boy’s mouth now, just once. Just...

“Death?”, he indeed uttered, like speaking was painful, “Death, you came!” He sounded so happy that, for a moment, the flier nearly forgot what had just happened. “Death”, he muttered as a cough interrupted him, “Death, how, why... why did you...? I was... I am...”

“It does not matter”, the flier mumbled, “forget it, Henry, forget all of it. Please. I can’t... I’m here, okay? It is all that matters.”

He felt the boy meekly nod and closed his eyes in relief, yet it all came crashing back down in an instant at Henry’s next words – “Death... I can’t... I can’t see you! Where... what...?”, he sobbed, smearing his hand in blood as he carefully touched his own face.

It is not true, the flier repeated in his head, over and over. “Henry, you... you need to clean your eyes... of course you can’t see, your face is covered in blood”, he muttered, attempting to sound as reassuring as he could. Of course it was only the blood. What else... would it be?

He carefully led Henry to a bigger puddle of water by the hand until the boy could feel its outskirt. It cost him much physical effort but the boy, at last, released the flier’s claw, only to fall forward, to all fours, next to the puddle.

The flier cowered behind him, fervently attempting to keep his panic at bay. Each second that passed felt like an hour and he was so scared of what he would inevitably see whenever Henry turned, that he began physically trembling.

The boy was finished, he registered, red dripped from the tips of his fingers to the floor, forming a network of lines, like veins, on the pale skin of his hand. The flier heard every drop like a thundering siren, like the steady beat of a drum, a heart.

“Death... Death, what is the matter with my... eye?”

Each word was a blow to the face, a violent crack in his facade. The flier could not look, could not answer, even if he had wanted to.

“Why can I not open it? Is it badly blocked, or what?”

He winced as Henry spoke again and his head automatically darted up. Part of him wanted to shut his eyes, to deny what he saw, yet all he could do was stare. Stare in utter horror at the boy before him, at the face... No, something was wrong with it. Something had to be. It matched not what he knew Henry looked like from his memory.

It had always been two. It had always been two – yet at him, from the so familiar face, stared only a single eye, darker than he had ever seen. Widened in fear, and misted with... something. Was it pain?

He nearly jumped at the nigh-inaudible sound the single drop of blood made when it hit the floor, leaving a burning, red trail on Henry’s pale cheek. From the... the black socket. Or was it red? Was the blood even red? Or was it black? The flier stared at it, yet he did not know. Not the color of the blood... not anything.

“Death!”

The flier jumped again as Henry attempted to rise, and stretched a hand in his direction. “ANSWER ME!”

He could not, the flier thought. He could not... how does one even put something like this into words?

Henry furrowed his brows at the flier’s silence. “Death...?” Yet when he attempted to stand, he collapsed, giving a pained cry. The flier barely made it in time to catch him. “Death...”

He is losing too much blood, the flier’s mind fervently reeled with what to do, how to tell him? He had to tell him. He had to... get him to bandage it. Had he his backpack? There was disinfectant in it, was there not? The flier cradled the boy as he let his gaze wander, in search of the backpack. Henry would live, he repeated in his head over and over. This was... fine, it was fine. He was conscious, he had bandages and medicine. He would... live. He had to.

“Death... speak to me, please... what...?” Henry lied as a limp weight in his wing. When the flier registered he was reaching his hand up again, he closed his claw around it automatically. The boy wanted not physical support this time but confirmation. Confirmation the flier was still there, and would not leave.

“I am here”, he muttered “I am not going anywhere”, and Henry twitched. Then he visibly gritted his teeth and raised his other hand, to his face. “Death...”

“DON’T – don’t touch it, Henry, it’s...” He had to tell him. If he did not tell him, he could not treat it. Could not stop the bleeding, could not... “it’s... the eye, you can’t touch it.”

“But I –”

“Henry YOU CAN NOT!”

He instantly cursed himself for yelling. The boy heaved. “I can...?”

“It’s GONE! Henry, the... it’s GONE!”

The boy widened his remaining eye in shock and opened his mouth, like to speak, but instead, his heaving became more frantic. He pulled himself up and cried out, cupping the socket with his hand. “W... what...?”

His voice was a timid whimper at first, but soon Henry began screaming the word, over and over. He fell to all fours and crawled to the puddle to look at himself, and the flier lacked the speed to stop him, with the current state of his wing.

The scream Henry gave at his own reflection was permeating and soul-crushing and the flier’s ears vibrated painfully.

The boy instantly began gagging again, but his stomach was empty. The flier could do nothing but watch as he kneeled there, bent over, heaving, retching, attempting to vomit, like he could rid himself of the pain, like he could wake up from this nightmare. If only.

Why... he? It was all the flier had the strength to think. He fixated his sore eyes on the shaking boy like he could somehow transfer his pain, his fear to himself. If anyone was to be mutilated like this, why was it the boy, the boy who had a future, and not he?

Because he had not been there fast enough. The thought hit like a blow to the face. Because he had let him go alone. Because he had... “Henry!”

At the sound of his voice, the boy jerked around. “NO!”, he screamed, his arms flailed in frantic spasms and the back of his hand struck the flier’s face. “NO! NO! No! No... n... no... n... o...”

“Henry!” He had to be strong, the flier thought, now he had to be, more than ever. He had to think. Henry could not think, so he had to. What was it they needed now? His gaze found the spot where Henry had lied, the backpack!

“Henry, your bag... you need to... you have medicine!”, he coughed, dragging himself over to it. As he kicked it towards the boy, its contents spilled on the floor. Wet fabrics, residue of food, water bags... it was the waterproof container the flier shoved at the boy. “You need to...”

The boy stared at him from a widened eye, as if he knew not what the flier was talking about, but finally, like in slow motion, he unfastened the clasps. The flier watched in agitation as he searched for the bottle with the antiseptic and opened it, yet as he raised it to his face, it slipped from his trembling fingers. Henry cried and only the flier’s claw kept him from flinging it at the wall. “Use the cloth it soaked, Henry, you need to save what remains of it for later!”

He had never seen the boy shake so much as now, when he did as the flier said, like in a trance. The bottle had not broken, only spilled about half its contents onto the pile of fabrics. It disappeared back in the waterproof container and Henry reached for one of the soaked cloths.

The scream he gave when he pressed it to the right side of his face had the flier squint his eyes in agony. From the volume, and from the overwhelming pain it held.

“We need to get out of here”, he twitched as Henry’s scream abated. “The rats will have heard us... and smelled our blood.”

The boy tilted his head towards him, yet the flier doubted he could even see him. His remaining eye was misted, turned inward, and when he realized what that entailed he could barely drag himself over in time to catch the boy before he would have hit the floor – unconscious.

“NO!” The flier’s own body gave way and he collapsed over the boy, over the lifeless boy. “Henry”, he barely uttered, “get up... get up, you moron, or they will kill us...”

The sudden cry the boy emitted pierced his eardrums, he clutched his fur so hard the flier suppressed a scream, yet he was instantly flooded with joy. “You live...”

He lived, yet he was barely conscious, the flier attempted to fight the terror enveloping his heart at the sight of the boy. He twitched and screamed, the cloth still covering most of his face.

Henry could not die, he could not die, not now. He could not have survived it all, to succumb here, to a serpent. A serpent that had... injured him, mutilated him, because –

The truth suffocated the flier like a chain someone had tightened around his chest – because he had allowed it. Because he had screamed at him, allowed him to go. He had called him... selfish, he had called him a traitor. It had been the last words he had spoken to him... ever?

A wave of disgust for himself overwhelmed him and his head began to spin. If Henry died now, he would... No, he could not die. He could not die... and leave him, like they all had. Like the girl had. _NOBODY needs you._ No, HE needs you, the flier forced himself to think. He needed him now. He needed him... The flier was not strong enough for a scream, all that escaped his mouth was a whimper.

He had saved the boy. He had not saved the girl, but he had saved the boy. He had... not saved the boy. Not this time. This time, he had... condemned the boy.

_I’m not offering this because I need your company – but because I want it. _Had he spoken the truth then, or at the river? The flier wrapped his wing tighter around the boy – who was he kidding? He hadn’t needed him ever since he had freed him from the spinner prison.

But I... need him, it dawned on the flier, and for the first time, he allowed himself to admit what he had so fervently tried to prevent had happened before his very eyes. He... needed the boy.

If the boy died now, what would the flier do? Images of himself, the way he had been before the boy, swarmed his mind like furious insects. Images of a shadow, a goner, a living corpse, waiting, hoping for death to claim him, to go to sleep and never wake up.

Unmoving. Cold. Eternal.

The boy was his hope. The boy was what had forced him out of eternal stagnation. My reason, he thought. He is my... reason. He knew not what the boy was his reason for – moving? Speaking? Getting up every day? Perhaps living itself. The reason he had not hoped to ever find again. What else did he have? If he had not the boy, what did he have?

“Do not DARE DIE ON ME, YOU HEAR?!”

Henry twitched as he took in the cry, and lied still, at last. His eye fluttered open.

“Yes, yes... you’re doing great”, the flier knew not what exactly he was babbling, all he knew was he needed to get them out. Now. Then everything would be fine. If only he could get them... Henry out.

“Come, please, help me set the broken bone into place, and we will be out of here”, he mumbled, eyeing his wing with contempt. It had not the right to stand in his way now.

The boy followed his gaze and narrowed his eye. “Your... wing...?”

“It is fine, Henry”, he assured, hoping with all his might the boy would not see through the obvious lie. “You only need to help me, and we will fly, Henry, we will get out and we will fly, like before, okay?”

“You... you’re not fine, are you?”

The flier narrowed his eyes. “Now is not the time to argue. Henry, I can not fix it on my own. But I will get us out of here, if it is the last thing I do. I promise.”

The boy did obviously not believe him, yet he didn’t protest when the flier helped him sit and stretched out his injured wing. It took Henry several attempts but he managed to force the bone back into the position it belonged. The flier could not suppress a scream at the searing pain, yet scolded himself instantly. He had not the right to complain, not now.

The boy barely managed to assemble a makeshift-splint with the materials from his sparse medical kit, before his own pain overwhelmed him and the flier could only watch him collapse. “I’ll... go to sleep...”

“No! No, Henry, you can’t go to sleep!” Numbing fear the boy would never open his eye again if he closed it now overwhelmed the flier and he spread his wings in agitation. “Get on. Now!”

Henry slouched backward from the movement and barely caught himself before his head would have hit the floor. His cheek remained lying in the puddle of blood that had seeped from his wound, and something about the expression in his remaining eye appalled the flier. “You... need to leave...”

“... what?” The flier thought he must have misheard.

Henry coughed and his lid fluttered. “YOU... need to leave...”

The flier could not speak, only stare.

“We both know you won’t make it out of here with that wing... AND me, weighing you down. I don’t even know if you’ll make it at all. But your chances are better... without me.”

The flier heard him, yet he barely registered the meaning of his words. He... did not want to. “H... Henry, you have to stop joking, please, this is not funny...”

“I’m not... I’m serious”, Henry whispered. “I’ve lost too much blood... I... just go. You were right – I was an idiot, it wasn’t them who needed me, it was I who needed them. And I’ve paid for it. Leave me”, he hesitated, “like you wanted, remember?” A strained cough cut him off, “When we first met, you wanted to... to dump me in the Dead Land.”

“Henry!”

But he interrupted him – “It... it’s time to do that. I don’t know why you even came – I ended our alliance already, and while I did not... not mean it then, I mean it now. I’m... I’m sorry for what I said, I wish I hadn’t, but I... now is not the time to argue, as you said. It’s time to finally follow that stupid rule. For the first time...”

The flier’s eyes were round in disbelief, he could not conceive a single coherent thought.

“Don’t risk your life for some stupid... alliance of which neither of us know what exactly it even is”, Henry insisted, “You have no obligations towards me – and if you ever felt you had any, you don’t. I won’t hold it against you. Not this time.”

“Henry if you don’t stop that nonsensical babbling right now, you will regret it!” The flier’s voice was shaking with unconcealed fear. This was all wrong – Henry was supposed to be the one who gave him hope – how was it... how was... this so strangely familiar?

_The only thing you can still do is finish me off here and now _– he had asked him to kill him before, as he asked him now to leave him to death. He had not been able to do it back then, not able to take another life, not even the life of a stranger.

His gaze met Henry, he was not a stranger now. He had not been in a long time. They were friends, were they not? The flier shuddered, had he no idea what he was asking? Especially after –

“You are not supposed to be here, you know?”, the flier mumbled, “You wouldn’t be here hadn’t I let you go alone. There is nothing to forgive, you hear? You did nothing wrong. It was I who... this is all my fault”, the words clogged in his throat, “For starting that stupid argument, for saying... Henry I’m so sorry”, he cowered over him. “I will not abandon you... not after...”

He was making excuses. The flier knew he wouldn’t leave regardless, whether he was responsible or not. Yet he was. The utter hatred he felt for himself dug its claw into his heart, poisoning it with despair and disgust.

“Please, do this one thing for me – if you have it in you to forgive me, just do it and get. On.”

Henry only threw him a last, unreadable gaze, then his eye fell shut. The waves of resignation, of hopelessness he had managed to keep at bay so far overwhelmed the flier at last, and he threw the boy a glance before allowing his aching body to collapse at his side.

He knew he would not leave here without the boy. If Henry remained, he would with him. For what were his options?

He meekly inched closer, burying his face in the boy’s side. He could die here, could finally rest, or he could flee, and live with the shame... he could do it all over again. He had chosen to live when the girl had died, yet it had not been a life. Not a life worth living. The only thing close to a life worth living in recent times had been this last half a year at the boy’s side.

He had not ended himself when the girl had died. And he would not make the same mistake with the boy.

“What... are you doing?”

He did not even look up. “If you stay, I stay with you.” The flier cautiously raised his good wing and spread it over Henry like a blanket.

“N... no, you can’t... don’t do this, please...” He felt Henry twitch, tug at the tissue of his wing. “Don’t think you have to die with me because you blame yourself for my own stupidity. I don’t blame you... you warned me! Had I only listened, I... it was the serpent, and...” – “Shut up, will you?”, the flier coughed out, “Just... be quiet. Just this once.”

“No!” He felt the boy turn his way, yet he did not look. “Death... why? Why are you doing this? You have no reason to still be here. You... you know, breaking our rule and saving each other is one thing, but... what you are doing now... You have no reason to –”

No reason. No reason. The words swirled in the flier’s head. No reason. He wants a reason? “You want a reason?” A lump formed in the flier’s throat as he slowly rose back up. “You want a damn reason? I’ll GIVE you a reason. Give me your hand.”

Henry slowly opened his eye and stared at him in visible confusion. The flier... Thanatos only extended his claw, unable to suppress his own tremble. “Give me your DAMN HAND. Do it!”

Slowly, like he had no idea what the flier wanted, Henry grasped his claw with his hand. “What are you...?”, he began, but Thanatos allowed him not to finish. “I’m giving you your reason.”

He knew exactly what he had to say, even though it had been... what, a decade? More? He knew not exactly, but it hardly mattered. For a moment he saw the girl’s face before his inner eye, smiling, like in approval. He would not forget her, Thanatos promised himself, yet the girl was his past.

The boy – he thought as his gaze met him – was his future.

There was a quiet yet pungent voice in his head, screaming he had not thought this through, yet it was so minuscule he could afford to disregard it as he uttered the first words –

_“Henry the Human I bound to you.”_

The boy widened his remaining eye in shock as he processed what Thanatos was doing. He did not let go of his claw though.

“Y... you...?”

Yet the flier undauntedly continued –

_“Our life and death are one, we two._

_In dark, in flame, in war, in strife,_

_I save you as I save my life.”_

No, he knew for a fact, as he spoke the familiar words, he was not just doing this because it was the only option to convince the stupid boy to not give up on his life. He meant every single word. He would have already meant it had he spoken them months ago. Something within the flier began shuddering at the thought.

“Is that REASON ENOUGH FOR YOU?!”

Henry only stared at him, desperately attempting to comprehend what had just happened. “You...”

“You have to say it back, Henry”, Thanatos urged. “I mean, you don’t have to, not really, but –”

The boy held his gaze. His eye remained open as he spoke –

“Death –”, he interrupted himself like he had only now realized Death was not the flier’s real name.

_“Thanatos... the Flier I bound to you.”_

His voice was weak, but his grip on Thanatos’ claw grew stronger with the second.

_“Our life and death are one, we two._

_In dark, in flame, in war, in strife,_

_I save you as I save my life...”_

The last words had barely escaped his mouth and Henry managed to give a little smile. For a split second, Thanatos watched the boy and could not help but think everything would be okay now.

“You’re a madman, you know that?”

“And bound to save your life as I would mine, from now on until I die. So GET YOUR ASS ON MY BACK – NOW.”

Henry didn’t protest this time. With Thanatos’ help, he gathered up his belongings, wrapped as many layers of cloth around his head and eye as he could manage, and heaved himself onto the flier’s back.

“You know you will regret this, right?” His voice was a weak whimper and blood began to pour through the makeshift-bandage into the fur on Thanatos’ back.

“Oh yes, I know.”

The way out of the Labyrinth was by far the most agonizing trip Thanatos had ever undertaken. It only amounted to around an hour of travel, but to the flier, every minute felt a hundred times longer, every second stretched into eternity – an eternity of unimaginable pain, as he fought the hardest battle he ever had – against his own body.

Yet he kept going. Kept himself moving with nothing but his will, his will that had turned to an iron wall, not allowing him to let up even for a moment. If he granted himself rest, he would not get back up, and every fiber of his body knew that was out of the question.

His wing was barely functional, he could not maintain balance in the air without the missing tissue. To say he was flying would have been an exaggeration – the flier leaped maybe eight or nine – at best ten or eleven – feet, landed and leaped again.

The coiled, narrow halls of the Labyrinth allowed not much leeway and Thanatos struggled to keep himself from constantly running into walls or dead ends. His mind was preoccupied with everything but avoiding obstacles at the moment.

Though, through some miraculous streak of luck, he did not encounter a single rat over the course of the entire trek. Perhaps the rumors were true and not many of them even came here, maybe they had fled from the serpents or were chasing the questers or protecting the Bane – Thanatos couldn’t care less, as long as they left him alone, left him to his battle.

In retrospect, the flier would hardly remember anything from this one, most agonizing hour of his life, least of all how he had managed to survive it. All he would remember was what had kept him going, struggling, fighting, animated him to leap again and again, despite falling every time –

The boy was on his back – the boy, his bond – and he was dead silent. He had not uttered a single word ever since they had taken off, he was but a limp weight, only making the trip more arduous.

But it was he who kept the flier going.

If only he would speak. If only the boy, if only Henry would speak, at last. After what had amounted to mere minutes but to the flier had felt like hours, the silence became so unbearable he himself began speaking. He was perfectly aware it was a waste of his breath, but it was the better option, the only one he could bear at all.

He spoke – spoke to Henry as if he was not bleeding out on his back, as if he was awake, as if he was listening.

At first, he mocked. Mocked him with his own words – “You said you would fight the world for every ounce of life in your body, where is that spirit now? Is this really all the life you had in yourself?”

Soon he went over to words of comfort. Endless promises to stay, to care for him, to be with him through life and death and war and strife, through it all. Of affection and admiration from others, the way he always desired.

“Someday you will tell this story like you now tell that of Goldfang”, he coughed out, “and they will all adore you. Praise you, Henry, you hear?”

Eventually, he trailed off to tales of the future. All the plans they had made, the endless possibilities that lied ahead still. If only they made it through this night.

“We will fly again, Henry”, he mumbled, “we will fly, fly over... the waterway, like you wanted. I promise, Henry. If only we make it through today, we will fly together. Like... before.”

He narrowly avoided a wall and allowed himself to scream in agony as his injured wing grazed on it. They would fly... he meekly thought, as he flung himself back in the air with something like angry defiance, would they ever fly again? The thought they might not, pierced his heart like an arrow of steel, burning more than all his physical injuries combined.

Now they had to. Now that he had promised it, now they... had to.

He spoke not only to fill the silence, the flier, at last, understood. He spoke as much to reassure himself as to distract from the arduous trip ahead and from the frighteningly lifeless boy on his back.

They really did need each other, Thanatos realized. Henry needed the flier to carry him out, to fight this battle for his life, and Thanatos needed the boy to... live. To give strength and purpose to both of them.

It was mutual need, he thought. Then again, had it ever not been?

When Thanatos finally flung himself around a corner and staggered out into the largest cave he had seen ever since he had entered the Labyrinth, his first impulse was to not trust it. He could not truly be out, the flier landed and stumbled forward, around the next corner into an adjacent, even bigger cave, and stopped – for the first time, he stopped and allowed himself to lean on the wall, attempting to take in he was... out.

But of course, even if he was out, he was not there yet. Here was not a safe place to rest. No water to drink, to see for the boy, to clean his wound, to live. They needed water... to live.

Heaving heavily, he leaped up again, struggling to control his numb wing, though relishing the openness beyond belief. He left two more caves behind and when he entered a wide passage leading almost directly straight, he suddenly recognized where he was.

He mobilized the very last of his strength and leaped out of the tunnel, only to plummet like a rock at the bank of the river – no, not the one they had stayed at in the Dead Land – the one where he and Henry had first spoken to each other.

The cliff, it is somewhere ahead, he thought, before he allowed himself to close his eyes and catch his breath as he remembered, remembered pushing the boy into the blood puddle... carrying him away from the bottom of the cliff. The images were so vivid as if it had all happened only yesterday, and not, what, half a year ago?

He opened his eyes and stared into the tunnel ahead, recalling the emotions of that night – the animosity, the desperation – and Henry’s obnoxious joke, his word, that had... had sealed his fate, in a way. Of course, the flier nearly laughed, of course the boy had saved his own damn life with a damn joke. And a really dumb one too. So dumb it had worked. The thought, at last, made him smile.

The flier regarded his own wing for a moment, he could almost not feel it anymore. He would have to do something about the tissue damage soon... but later. His lids fluttered shut again and he wondered if he would ever be able to move again. He felt like his body would split apart if he so much as moved a muscle. But there was still the boy on his back, the flier remembered. He would move, of course he would. He had to move, for the boy... for Henry... for his... bond. “Hey, Henry... we’ll take a... a break here, okay?”

Silence.

Despite the fear his body would split if he moved, Thanatos managed to shake Henry off his back so that he lied beside him – motionless and quiet. The bandage around his head was soaked in blood.

The flier tried not to look. Instead, he wrapped both wings around him until he heard his heartbeat, quiet yet even. He was still warm. As long as he had not grown cold with death, the flier would not seize fighting for his life. _Our life and death are one_.

“You’ll see... after we’ve both gotten some sleep, everything will be okay. You just need to rest... rest... like me. You’ll be the first one awake tomorrow, right? You’ll be awake, telling me I’m a lazy ass. Can you do that for me...?” His voice was barely a whisper, and he tightened his embrace. The boy would be awake when he would open his eyes.

He would be... He had to be.


	26. Destiny

Henry opened his eyes. No – it took a moment to sink in, but there was something not right about that. He opened one eye. The spot where the other one was supposed to be throbbed with dull pain.

Henry blinked, attempting to raise his hand and check what the matter with the eye was when he registered his face was pressing into fur. Fur drenched in dry blood.... his blood.

Thanatos.

Henry twisted, attempting to catch a better glimpse at the flier. He... was here. Was that... had he always been here? The exiled prince froze, and in horror realized he had virtually no recollection of the last... what had it been? A day? Two? Since they had left the boat. What... had happened?

“Death?”

Despite how weak his voice was, the flier’s ears twitched and he released his grip on Henry, only to cower over him in the next moment – “You live!”

The exiled prince blinked up at him, taking in the apparent worry in his narrowed eyes – what was going on? Since when was Thanatos so... openly concerned about him? “Heh... someone’s worried”, he managed a laugh, “Of course I live. Why would I not...” His now free hand jolted up to cup the spot where his right eye was supposed to be.

“No, do not even THINK of joking now. Not even for a single moment, you hear?” Henry had seldom heard so much anxiety in the flier’s voice and even as he turned away, the exiled prince sensed something horrible must have happened.

He took a deep breath and gathered his strength to sit, but as he pulled himself up he cried and fell back. For a moment he was convinced someone had thrust a spear through his right eye and the entire length of his skull.

“Henry, you have to be careful.” Thanatos was over him again in an instant. “You can’t just go and stand up after...”

The exiled prince felt something wet the hand he still pressed to the bandage covering his eye and as he held it in front of his face a translucent, pinkish liquid dripped from his fingertips.

_Death, what is the matter with my... eye? _Despite the spear that instantly pierced his head again Henry shot up. A glance at Thanatos confirmed what seemed to have surfaced from the murky depths of his memory. “My... my eye...”

The flier averted his gaze. “I... I am so sorry.”

The exiled prince swallowed, trying to suppress the uprising panic. It was... it had... “The serpent”, Thanatos mumbled, “it... you... I couldn’t get to you fast enough. Henry, I...”

The serpent. He squinted his remaining eye as the memory flooded back. There had been Aurora with Luxa, she wouldn’t have made it, had he not... “It’s not your fault, Death”, he mumbled, “it was I who jumped for the serpent. I had no choice, it would have... there was Luxa, and I couldn’t...”

“Henry, I –”, the flier’s gaze darted up again, “You... do you not remember what –?”

“Nothing, Death”, the exiled prince carefully stabilized himself before stretching his stiff limbs – “I remember... jack shit.” He thought the expression seemed familiar, like he had used it recently, even though he did not recall it. “It’s all murky and fractured, after we left the boat.”

The flier’s gaze was pensive, yet also concerned. He spoke not a single word as the exiled prince managed to pull himself to his feet somehow. He barely suppressed a scream and reeled to the nearest wall for support. Instead of catching himself, he rammed into it with full speed and clung on like it was a lifeline.

When the incessant spinning of his head became bearable his gaze met the river. His hand darted up to the bandage, and a wave of unwillingness to ever remove it, to ever deal with what was underneath, overcame him. But if he did not clean it, it would become infected, a voice screamed in his head. He could die, Henry gritted his teeth. If he did not deal with it now, he could still die.

“Every ounce of life in my body”, he mumbled as he took a careful step towards the water. He had once been elbow-deep in a rat corpse, how bad could one... eye be? Pictures of the rat eyes he had removed from their skulls flashed in his mind, of the gaping sockets they had left. Was that what he would see in his own face now?

Henry barely steadied his hand as he dropped at the riverbank. “Death?” For the first time, he raised his gaze to look around and realized the place looked familiar. “Death, are we –”

“Yes, it is the cave, the river where we first talked”, Thanatos appeared beside him. “I had no idea it was so close to the Labyrinth either. Hey”, the flier’s voice turned to worry, “are you okay?”

Henry lowered his eye back down and pressed his lips together. “Well, what do you think?” Then he remembered this was not the flier’s problem. It was his, and only his. “I’m fine. I just... don’t want to take this thing off”, he tugged at the crusted, soaked bandage. “Or look at myself in a mirror... ever.”

“Henry, you’ll be fine.” The flier sounded hesitant. “You... you live, that is the important thing.”

The exiled prince took a deep breath in preparation to face himself and dared a peek into the river. The bandage looked disgusting, smeared in blood and several other unidentifiable stains. As little as he wanted it off, he didn’t want it on either anymore.

Then something hit his leg and he spotted the backpack Thanatos had kicked in his direction. “You have to treat it”, the flier mumbled, “You have to. It is hard, I know, but I will not have you let it get infected.”

The bandage was hardened with dry blood and clung to his hair and skin, it took Henry a while to get it off without hurting himself more than necessary. When he had finally unwrapped the last layer he tossed everything aside disgustedly and hesitated before leaning over the streaming water.

What he saw froze the blood in his veins. Henry nearly lost balance and fell forward into the water, for the second time now scared of his own reflection. But this wasn’t like last time.

Last time had been bad, yes. The face in the waterfall flashed in his mind, the face he hadn’t recognized as his own. Right now, he wished nothing more than to see that face. To see anything, be it haggard and neglected, if only it were... fixable. He had fixed it back then. He had fixed himself until he had liked what he saw in the mirror again, even kept himself in well-enough condition from then on. But this time, it hit Henry like a blow to the face – he could not fix it.

The exiled prince trembled as he turned to Thanatos. The flier raised his head at the movement, and for a short moment, Henry saw an expression in his eyes that shook him to the core. A mix of shock, fear, and disgust, like he was looking at something unnatural, something disfigured, something that would scare you if you encountered it in a dark tunnel.

Henry winced and nearly dropped the backpack he was clutching, even though the flier’s face turned to worry and sympathy in less than a heartbeat.

“It... it really is that bad”, his voice was shaking as he turned his gaze down. “I can see it. The way you looked at me... Am I scaring you? Disgusting you? Am I –?” He failed to finish the sentence as his throat lumped with uncried tears. In this very moment, all he wanted was to curl up in a ball in some corner and cry... and never show his face to anyone ever again. Not even look at it himself.

“No, no... Henry, you...” The flier inched closer and struggled for words. “It looks... bad, I mean, severe, yes, but I would never be... It will get better. The eye will not heal, but the skin will. You’ll see. Will it leave a scar? Of course, but it won’t look half as bad in a month or so.”

Henry swallowed, resisting the urge to touch it and gathered strength to look again. As he leaned over the river he winced, struggling to comprehend this was he now. Back at him stared a familiar, purple eye – and a dark, empty socket. But it wasn’t just the eye either. All flesh surrounding it was exposed, furiously red, angry marks reaching across his forehead and into his scalp in an arch, forming the pattern of a serpent’s jaw.

“You were lucky to have worn that mask”, Thanatos beside him mumbled, “it probably saved your life.”

Henry extended a shaking hand to the water, like touching the reflection would make any difference. “I... I guess, yeah...”

But instead of retrieving water to drink and clean his... well, what remained of his face, Henry cried and fell forward, having expected the water much closer than it apparently was. Only Thanatos who latched onto his coat and pulled him back in the last moment prevented a face-dive into the river.

“The hell are you doing?”, the flier gazed at the trembling prince.

“It... it wasn’t where I expected it, the water I mean”, he mumbled then held a hand in front of his face. He squinted his eye and fixated a pebble at the bank before stretching to grasp it. His arm did not even remotely reach, even though he had been certain it would, only moments ago.

A lump of panic clogged his throat. Of course – he had often worn fake eyepatches during roleplay as a child and quickly found you could, in fact, not judge depth or distance with only one eye. The amounts of things he had run into were proof enough. Back then, he had usually taken the eyepatch off after a couple hours for convenience – but now? His hand cupped the socket of his right eye – he could not take anything off.

“Oh no...” The flier beside him had apparently grasped the issue as well.

“It’s... I can’t... my whole depth perception is messed, Death I –”, Henry sat straight, attempting to keep himself from hyperventilating. “How am I supposed to live like this?”, he cried, “How am I supposed to fight? To fire a sling? Or DO ANYTHING?!”

“Henry, Henry... you will live well enough”, the flier attempted to sound calming but the worry in his voice was apparent. “We... we will worry about that when we don’t have any more pressing matters, okay? For now, you need to tend to it, apply the medicine, and a better bandage. Then we will worry about everything else.”

Henry was still shaking but nodded. The flier was right. Worry about everything as it becomes relevant, or you will be overwhelmed, he thought, as he inched back to the river. He was stalling and he knew that, but it wasn’t like the task ahead was pleasant.

Some ten minutes later Henry had finally mustered up the strength and stomach to clean the wound and the socket of remaining residue before properly disinfecting it, which had hurt more than the cleaning. It had started bleeding again in the process and oozed more of the translucent liquid, so he bandaged it as tightly as he could, fervently hoping no dirt had found its way in.

Henry shook his head – a damn serpent bite. Wasn’t spit even supposed to be good on wounds? Well, if serpent spit was like human spit, in that regard. At least the serpents weren’t venomous.

The task had drained him of all energy and he soon lied down, attempting to disregard the dull throbbing of the wound. His head had begun aching as well and what had remained of his vision blurred, focusing on anything was harder than he was used to.

Maybe he should eat and drink, he thought, after what must have amounted to around five minutes, and finally lowered his hand into the river until he physically felt the water. After his thirst was quenched, he unsheathed Mys and stabbed at a passing fish, but missed by a mile.

Of course. Fishing without depth perception was about as impossible as fishing without his eyes altogether. Frustratedly, Henry hit the water with the blade and snorted. He was useless once more.

The exiled prince rose in irritation, hadn’t he lied at this exact river in this exact position, feeling utterly useless, before? He squinted his eye in anger – how hard had he worked to become stronger, to master everything exile could possibly throw at him – and now? Now he was back at the stupid beginning. Same place, same companion, and same skill level – useless.

“It’s not FAIR!” he yelled, despite the pain that immediately shot through his head, and tossed Mys at the opposing wall. The dagger clanked on it and remained lying across the river as Henry death glared it. It was useless too.

“Hey, hey! You know Teslas will claw your other eye out as well if you so much as make a scratch on that thing.”

The exiled prince turned to Thanatos, only now registering he had been silent until now. “Who cares?”, he cried, “It was all for nothing! All of it! I may as well have remained idle, why did I waste my damn time on striving to become stronger if I end up as useless as I was before anyway?” He fell back down to lie at the water, “Stupid, and weak, and useless...”

“Henry!”

The exiled prince bothered not to raise his gaze. Tears of frustration rose in his remaining eye and he angrily wiped them away. What good would crying do him now? What good would anything do him now? In another wave of anger, he violently tugged at the bandage before banging his head on the floor, right where he lied.

Henry instantly regretted it and cried in pain as he watched the world around him spin. He felt the bandage wetting with some liquid from the wound again, well, should it. It was useless. Like he.

“Hey, hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The flier’s voice sounded much closer now yet Henry still did not raise his gaze. “You need to go easy on your head, not strain it further...”

“Who cares”, Henry mumbled into the floor as the first tear escaped his eye. “I’ve lost it all. It all. All I worked for, all I strived to accomplish, it’s all for nothing because of this stupid eye.” He clenched his fist. “The damn serpent should have killed me, then I at least wouldn’t have to live on, knowing how utterly useless I am...”

“HENRY!”

He turned his head to throw a glance at the flier who now cowered beside him, the same worry as before in his eyes. And there was something else, though Henry couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“I do not ever want to hear you speak like this. You’re diminishing my efforts too, you know? Do not ever say it was for nothing that I flew you out of there, when I fought so hard to –”, Thanatos interrupted himself and averted his gaze, like he had said something wrong.

“Fought?”, Henry frowned, “what are you talking about?” He tried to recall what had happened last night, but his head was a confusing sea of fuzz.

All he received were images like from a fever dream, chaotic abstract visions, and intense sensory impressions – the sharp, searing pain, the fear when he had not been able to see, the taste of seawater and vomit. And there was also – Henry furrowed his brows more, his gaze met Thanatos and he instinctively clenched his right fist like he thought he had done last night, around –

His eye trailed down to look at it and he shook his head. Yeah, right. As if that had ever happened. He would sooner believe to have bonded with a rock. At least it would not object in pride.

“You really don’t remember... anything?”, the flier asked, and before Henry could respond, continued – “I mean, it’s not like you missed much. You went back to help the questers and... leaped for that serpent, it injured you and I pulled you out of the water. You threw up a bunch, makeshift-disinfected and bandaged your eye, and then I flew us out. That’s... basically it.”

Henry sighed. “I guess so.” He had gone alone, to help the questers. Why had he gone alone? He thought he could remember if he really wanted, but a part of him screamed he shouldn’t, so he left it alone.

Irritated, he shook his head. “Alright, whatever. You know what, let’s just get out of here, okay? This place is only making me more miserable.” He stood to retrieve Mys and nearly fell into the river as he attempted to jump it. He took off his boots and waded through instead, collapsing beside the dagger. His head hurt and spun, and all he felt like was lying down and closing his eye, to sleep, to forget everything. Maybe he could do that on the fly.

“Hey Death, can we go or what?” He turned his gaze back on the flier and with irritation registered he had lowered his head, visibly avoiding eye contact. “Death?” The flier still did not react, and, with the last of his strength, Henry pulled himself back to his feet. This time he couldn’t wade across without falling and soaked half his coat in the process.

Henry cursed and barely mustered up the strength to crawl out of the river and collapse beside Thanatos. “Death, please, I can’t...”, he closed his eye, sparking lights clustered his vision and he felt like someone was stabbing a blade through his eye over and over.

“Henry, I’m so sorry, I can not...”

The exiled prince opened his eye back up and searched for the flier with his gaze. “What?”

To his surprise, Thanatos inched back. “You... I can not... not take you anywhere. Not... anymore.” The flier visibly trembled and that emotion he had seen earlier was back, much more prominent than before. Only now Henry recognized it as shame.

“What are you talking about?”

_Come, please, help me set the broken bone into place, and we will be out of here. _Henry froze as the words he seemed to remember the flier speaking rang in his ears. “Your wing...”, he mumbled, dragging himself over to Thanatos, “the bone... I made a splint, didn’t I?”

The flier still didn’t look at him.

“But you flew us out of there!”, Henry objected, “It can’t be that bad if you flew us out! Do I have to re-splint it?” Was that what he had meant when he had spoken of the flight here as a fight? For the first time, Henry nearly forgot his own injury for the sake of the flier. Had he reason to worry?

“I... it’s...”, Thanatos stuttered, “you...”

He winced as Henry nudged him. “Show me.” When the flier didn’t react, he sighed. “Come on. It can’t be that bad if you flew us out last night. And in this state, I can’t possibly carry YOU out of here. I want to sleep...”, he mumbled, barely preventing himself from sinking against Thanatos, to sleep then and there.

The flier still did not meet his gaze, and Henry registered he was shaking when he finally extended his left wing. The exiled prince turned to inspect it and his eye widened in horror at the sight.

“D... Death...”

“I can not.” Never before had he sounded so much like he wanted to cry. “I can not... fly. Not... anymore.”

The exiled prince felt his head sting and he collapsed over the flier at last, clutching his fur tightly. “You... what did you... do...?”

“It was the flood”, Thanatos mumbled, “it caught us when I had fished you out of the water and smashed me into the floor, into a rock I believe, and this...”, he broke off and shook his head. “Do not ask me how I flew us out last night, all I know is that somehow I made it here and... and... now”, he took in a shaking breath, “now I can not... not fly... anymore. Not fly you further. I wish I could, you have no idea how much I wish I could, but I... can not...”

“You didn’t say anything”, Henry mumbled, face pressed into Thanatos’ fur. “Why the hell did you not say anything?” Hot, searing shame flooded him at how miserable and whiny he had behaved, and how quietly the flier had listened, not even bringing up his own injury, which was equally permanent, Henry saw that on first glance. He knew not much about medicine, but even he was perfectly aware a flier could not regrow wing tissue.

“What would it have changed, had I said anything?”, the flier shook his head. “I... a part of me wished to ignore it, you know? To not look, and pretend it did not exist. Until you expressed the wish to leave... It is I, not you, who is useless, Henry.”

No, it reeled in his mind. This was not happening. Was it not bad enough he had been mutilated? Now Thanatos was injured too. It could not be happening, not all at once.

“You’re not useless”, Henry angrily squeezed out, and then jerked up, “Death, of course you will fly. You will fly us out of here, and you will fly so much one would think you’d get sick of it. Let me try something!”

Thanatos raised his head, yet his eyes were void of hope. He’s given up, the exiled prince thought, everything in him objecting furiously. He’s given up on himself. But I’m not giving up on him.

“I mean, I’m currently very open to suggestions.”

“Henry, you’re a madman! An ingenious, incredible madman!”

The exiled prince lied against the wall, unable to keep himself standing or sitting, and grinned ear to ear as he squinted his remaining eye at Thanatos. The flier whizzed by him and performed a zig-zag, then a coiler, like his wing had never been injured. Okay, maybe not exactly, part of the bone was still splinted, but almost.

When he finally touched down in front of Henry he panted from exertion but the pure joy in his eyes overshadowed it by miles.

“Oh I know! Honestly, wasn’t even that big of a deal”, the exiled prince shrugged. “If I can sow up a rip, I can just as well sow some fabric onto your wing, if a stupid flood thinks it had to take your tissue. I’m so good at sowing at this point I might as well add it to my exile-induced-skills list. What is left of it, anyway.”

Thanatos shook his head, “I will praise you as the best sower in the world if that is what you want. You... have you any idea what this “not big of a deal” you just did means to me?”

Henry managed a laugh. “I will never refuse praise. You know that.” He eyed the patch of fabric he had stretched over the part of Thanatos’ wing that had lost its natural tissue.

It had been somewhat of a hassle to properly fixate it so that it wouldn’t differ from the rest of the wing more than necessary, but apparently what he had fabricated worked perfectly well. “Hey, maybe we can even go back to the spinners and have them replace this fabric, give you something specifically made to imitate the tissue of your wing”, Henry thought out loud, “and I’m sure they can sew it on better as well.”

Thanatos nodded. “That sounds like a plan. It does feel somewhat... strange, to have a piece of something other than my own tissue in my wing, but the splint is holding and I can fly at all, so it’ll suffice to get us out of here, and possibly to the spinner headquarters.”

Henry grinned. “Hey, I mean you look like a patchwork rug, but if it’s working...!”

“Says the boy with half the skin on his face gone.”

Both of them laughed, even if the matter was everything but funny. But if you can’t laugh at your misery, you’ll succumb to it, Henry thought and instantly cupped his eye again. Too bad he couldn’t fix that with a little bit of fabric.

“So, how’s your eye?”, Thanatos tilted his head, noticing the gesture, as if he’d had a similar thought.

Henry hesitated, then shrugged. “It’s seen better.”

It took the flier a second to get it, but when he did, he snorted from suppressed laughter and after the following coughing fit sounded a loud groan. “This... this is only the beginning isn’t it? You’ll be making eye-puns to no ends from now on, right?”

“You could have seen that one coming, honestly.”

“Henry, I swear”, he spread his wings and glared down at the exiled prince, who was nearly shaking with laughter at his own joke. “If you do not stop this immediately I will –”, Thanatos retreated and cowered down. “Well, if you’re joking around already, you must be feeling better.”

“Kind of. Still tired. Can’t keep the eye open for too long”, Henry sighed. “But hey”, he glared at the flier, “how much better can I even be doing? I lost my good looks forever!” And my ability to fight, to catch my own food, and to judge how far I need to reach my hand to retrieve water from a river. He voiced a short laugh and suppressed the uprising tears. Why was making bad jokes his coping mechanism for everything?

“Hey, who said that?” The flier hummed, “I bet you’ve spent hours in front of a mirror practicing poses as a kid, and I also bet you’ve put on an eyepatch for some of that time. Did it look that bad?”

Henry snorted before actually breaking into laughter again. “M... maybe not... THAT bad...”

“See? It’ll be alright. I know it will be.”

Henry sighed as his smile faded. “But... but this stupid headache is killing me. Death, how long will this continue? I don’t want to...” He shut his eye and curled up tighter, like ignoring his problem would make it go away.

“Henry”, the flier voiced an exasperated sigh. “One moment you were making jokes, and now you begin complaining again, like I know the answer to any of your questions! I can not help, and your constant asking for it only makes me feel even worse. So... make up your mind.”

Henry’s only response was a groan, and Thanatos turned away, resigned. The exiled prince could have sworn the flier mumbled “Teenagers...”

“SHUT UP!”, Henry screamed. He had earned all the right in the world to complain – he had lost a damn eye. What else would he need to do?

Thanatos was silent for a few moments, then nudged Henry in the side. “Let’s just leave, okay? Come, if you want you can sleep on the fly.”

Henry fell asleep immediately after Thanatos had taken off. He cared little for where they would end up, all his body longed for was rest, and the flier would know where he was going anyway.

He had no idea where they were at first, when he slowly drifted out of sleep again, and only looked up as they crossed into a tunnel that followed a river. Thanatos eventually shot out into a vast cave and the river below broadened. Henry prepared to ask when the flier planned to take a break when his eye widened – there, at the top of the cliff, high above the river, hung the remains of a bridge.

“Death, this... this is the bridge!”

“What bridge?” Thanatos gained altitude and soon rose above the canyon where the destroyed bridge had formerly stretched.

“This is where the rats attacked us”, Henry pointed down, “back on the quest for the Prophecy of Gray. We had to sever the ropes to prevent them from following us!”

Thanatos remained hovering above the scene. “Oh? Where did you come from?”

“There”, Henry directed the flier’s attention at a tunnel ahead, “Why?”

“Well, you visited the spinners on your quest, right? Aren’t we on our way to them, to have my wing fixed properly?”

Henry nodded and lied back down as the flier left the scene behind. Well, at least he knew where he was again now. Somewhat.

They flew for another ten minutes until the tunnel mounded in a cave with a high ceiling and Thanatos, at last, landed. “Let’s stay here for the time being”, he stretched his wing, “I’m hungry, as are you I’m sure. And here we’re not as much out in the open as back at the river.”

Henry slid off his back and settled himself on the floor, powerless to stand. “Mhm”, he mumbled, trying to disregard his throbbing head.

“Hey, this place is nice.” The flier glanced around, “If this was the route your quest took, you surely camped here as well, did you not?”

“Maybe”, Henry begrudgingly shook his torch out of his backpack and lit it, he’d need it to cook anyway, and took a look around. “I mean, do you expect me to remember every –” Then his eye widened and he shot up, suppressing a pained cry. He held the torch higher and suddenly felt a lump rise in his throat – he recognized this cave all too well.

_You know, where I come from, we don’t think much of someone who sneaks up and stabs a person in their sleep – _The determined voice of Gregor after he had, being the oblivious madman he was, stepped in between Ripred and Henry, rang in his ears when –

His hand instinctively jolted to his own right arm to trace the scar, the one that had remained after the rat had injured him in self-defense. Henry clenched his jaw and fell back, remembering his own fury and frustration, his determination to prove himself, his sleepless hours contemplating on what to do – before and after the assassination attempt.

He had been frustrated he had lost to a rat, furious at Ripred for having survived, at Gregor for having warned him, and at everyone for siding against him. The exiled prince twitched in discomfort. “Hey, Death, can’t we just press on? I’m sure there are enough suitable spots to rest ahead.”

“What is wrong with this one?” Thanatos had already found a spot to hang – hadn’t that been the exact same ledge the bats had used back then? Aurora and... Ares?

“I... I don’t like the memories it holds, okay?”

“Memories, memories – it’s the past.” The flier stretched his wings and clearly had no intention of heeding his request. “The cave can’t hurt you, Henry, and I am exhausted. I’m flying with a broken wing here, so be a little less picky about resting places.”

As much as he wanted, there was little Henry could say to that.

“So, what is this apparently so bad memory this cave holds?”

Henry nibbled on his fish and turned his gaze down. The flier had, some half an hour ago, gone back to catch lunch and the fish he returned with had unusually large and sharp teeth, of the sort Henry had never encountered before. Only then he recalled Ripred had warned the fish in the river outside were carnivorous. “Well”, he hesitated, “remember, I once told you I tried to kill Ripred in his sleep?”

“Oh, that was here?”

“Yeah”, Henry’s eye darted to the opposite corner, “right over there. Gregor warned him – I have no idea why or how he woke up at the exact right moment, but if he hadn’t, Ripred would be dead now.”

“Well, in all honesty, I am happy on Ripred’s behalf you did not succeed. After all he’s been through, dying in an assassination of the sort would not have been a proud way to go.” Thanatos tilted his head at him, “No offense, of course.”

Henry scoffed. “Oh, I am offended. Mildly, at least. Then again, my quarrel with Ripred was only partially personal. He was being an asshole, of course, but that wasn’t why I tried to kill him.”

“Let me guess, you wished to impress Gorger?”

“Essentially.” Henry pondered, “No, I’m also glad he’s alive. That way, I can challenge him fairly someday.”

Thanatos’ ears twitched. “Excuse me?”

Henry clenched his fist, “That’s right. Here, with you as my witness, I solemnly swear I will one day challenge the asshole – I mean Ripred – to a rematch. And when that day comes, I’ll give him a fight he’ll remember for the rest of his life.”

Thanatos was silent for a few moments. “You... are aware Ripred is a rager, right? The Raging Rat, some say. Making that battle ever fair will be a challenge in itself.”

Henry jerked around. “Excuse me, WHAT?” His raised hand fell back at his side. “Oh, I can’t BELIEVE the kind of CHEAP CHEATER he is. Of course –”, he laughed, “it makes sense. It all makes sense now. The asshole...”

Thanatos joined in his laugh. “I suppose that means you take your promise back?”

Henry twirled around in his direction, squinting his eye from the pain the sudden movement brought. “What?! Of course NOT! The rat will eat his words, if it is the last thing I’ll ever do – rager or not!”

“Big words”, the flier mumbled, “especially for someone who’s just lost his sense of depth perception.”

Henry angrily scoffed. “You’re nitpicking! The thing with long term goals is, they are long term. I’ll get over this somehow. And then I’ll make Ripred regret the day he angered me.” The exiled prince instinctively cupped his eye again. He would find a solution... somewhere... somehow. There was no way this was the end of him. Not if he had anything to say about it.

“In all honesty, I am looking forward to seeing you try.”

The next ten minutes they spent eating silently, Henry persistently combatted the headache even though it soon increased to the point where he found it hard to form a coherent thought.

“You should perhaps change that bandage and disinfect it again. It’s best to do it more than once a day.”

Henry held his eye closed and moved not an inch from where he had taken to lie, curled up in a ball on the floor.

“Oh, come on.”

He winced and groaned as the flier nudged him. “Leave me...”

“Not a chance.”

It took Thanatos some effort but eventually, he dragged the exiled prince up into a sitting position, shoving over his backpack. “Now do.”

Henry shot him a pained death glare as he fumbled the pack open. “I hate you so much right now.”

“Oh, that is alright”, the flier lied down beside him to watch and make sure the exiled prince would not collapse. “As long as it means you properly treat your injury, you can hate me all you want.”

Henry nearly dropped the bottle with the disinfectant again, so lackluster had his hand-eye-coordination become. He bit his lip from both pain and shame, he’d always prided himself on his great reflexes and coordination – and now?

“What do you think happened to the... the others?” He had fervently attempted to reconstruct as much missing time as he could and remembered the fate of the questers who had fought in the Tankard still hung in the open.

“I have no idea”, Thanatos admitted, “I only thought of saving you, at that moment. Though... I believe Ares and Andromeda managed to get away. I have not seen Aurora though.”

A lump of fear clogged Henry’s throat. Out of everyone... it had to be Luxa who was unaccounted for. She’ll be fine, he thought. If anyone will be fine, it’s her. She’s resourceful and clever, she’ll pull through. Like I have. And she has Aurora with her – they will protect each other like they always have. Like bonds do. He could not prevent a thorn of a hard to classify emotion from piercing his heart at the thought.

Henry tried not to think of how there were situations you couldn’t escape, even if you were resourceful and clever, even if you had a companion by your side. But worrying about the others wouldn’t get him anywhere now. There was nothing he could do for them at the current moment. He had his own issue to sort out. Henry gritted his teeth in anticipation of the pain the disinfectant would bring.

After he had tended to the wound and re-bandaged it he meant to store the bottle with disinfectant away. But when he picked up the waterproof container the hinges gave way, it opened wider and something else fell out.

Henry tilted his head as he reached for it, and his eye widened as he recognized the leather scroll Gregor had given him. The one meant for the Death Rider. He had almost forgotten it existed.

“What do you have there?” Thanatos appeared beside him and the exiled prince held it up, “It’s the scroll from Gregor, the one for the Death Rider.”

“Well, don’t you want to look at it – finally?”

“It’s... Death, I mean, I do, but...”, Henry leaned back, twisting the smooth leather in his hand pensively, “I can’t really be the Death Rider, can I? How crazy would that be – me, my own childhood idol.”

He felt the flier’s fur brush against his side as he raised his head. “Oh, it would not surprise me. As I said before, I had this feeling it was you from the beginning, from the moment you first ignited your sword. What was it you said – he rides on the wings of Death Himself? Checks out too, if I’m not gravely mistaken. At least going by that nickname you gave me.”

Henry tilted his head. “Fair enough. But... anyone could have discovered the ignifer formula. And anyone could have –”

“Oh, anyone COULD have”, Thanatos hummed, “but not anyone has. YOU have. Show me that sketch of the mural again, won’t you?”

Henry reluctantly fetched his mother’s notebook and flicked through to where he had sketched the Death Rider. He inspected his own drawing in the torchlight and ran his fingers over it carefully, suddenly finding himself having the hopes he had wanted to keep out so desperately. What if –

“Hey, he’s even facing left”, Thanatos beside him laughed, “who knows, maybe it is supposed to conceal his right eye on purpose. Like if it was missing altogether. Like... yours now.”

Henry tilted the page and held it closer to his face. “I... I never questioned that... then again, why would I have?” He hesitated, “Do you... do you really think it could... actually be me? Like, honestly?”

“There is a way to find out, or so I strongly believe – read the scroll.”

Henry hesitated for a moment but decided he had stalled long enough. He carefully untied the ribbon and, as he took in the messy yet distinct hand of his sister, his eyes widened in surprise – the scroll read a prophecy.

“The Death Rider”, Henry read the title and shook his head. “I never knew there was a prophecy about him!”

“Oh, really? Well, I’m sure you had plenty of opportunities to find it”, the flier hummed, “you were probably just not interested enough. Or how much time, on average, did you spend in the room of prophecies?”

Henry rolled his eye. “Not really... any, not if I could avoid it. My sister feels drawn to it, as to all prophecies Sandwich left, but I find obsessing over them to that extent obnoxious. They are engravings on a wall, they can’t strangle you if you happen to not do exactly what they want.”

The flier laughed. “Well, I agree. Prophecies are meant to guide, not rule us, is my two dimes on it. Allowing them to control your every move would be ridiculous. Striving to understand can never hurt, but a line has to be drawn somewhere.”

Henry nodded. “I for one never cared enough to find this prophecy. Even if it was about the Death Rider whom I admired so much. All that surprises me is how Nerissa never told me about it.”

“She did now, did she not?”

He hesitated. “I... guess. But why not sooner?”

Thanatos shook his head. “How am I supposed to know? Read the damn thing at last, maybe then you will know.”

“Right.” Henry turned his gaze back to the scroll. The prophecy wasn’t long, but it nonetheless shook Henry to his core as he read it aloud, voice echoing from the walls of the cave –

_Bound to fall and then to rise,_

_Life reaped by Death, in darkness pines,_

_Corrupted wretch now to atone –_

_For every fault, mistake, and wrong._

_Adamant your fate is sealed,_

_True face is soon to be revealed,_

_Darkness, loneliness, and pain –_

_Endure it all, and reap the gain._

_You reconcile, offset the wrong,_

_To find your fate not on your own,_

_Heart and blade alight, you run –_

_Condemner, savior has become._

Deafening silence followed the last line. Henry found it hard to control his shaking hands, to form coherent words and verbalize his thoughts, but Thanatos beat him to it – “It... is you. It most certainly is you.” Henry sensed an amused vibration running through his body, “It had me at “corrupted wretch”, to be honest.”

He received a hefty nudge in the ribs for that.

“Hey, you don’t believe me? Let’s go over it systematically, then. Hold the scroll up for me to read, and I’ll explain.” Henry frowned but obliged, scooting closer to the flier and raising the prophecy until Thanatos could make out the words himself.

“Bound to fall and then to rise – well, it can hardly get any clearer. You fell and rose, literally and figuratively. Life reaped by Death, in darkness pines – should seem familiar as well. It is nearly the same wording as in the Prophecy of Gray”

“Oh, you were pining then?”, Henry interjected, but Thanatos ignored him and continued – “The corrupted wretch hardly needs explaining either. We’re also evidently working on the atoning-part, aren’t we?”

Henry shook his head in disbelief. It was like the words shifted before his eye to form an indisputable meaning.

“Adamant your fate is sealed – so adamant you asked me to put you out of your misery when we first spoke. True face is soon to be revealed – well, we’re getting there. Not entirely there yet, but working on it.”

Henry elbowed the flier once more.

“Darkness, loneliness, and pain – endure it all and reap the gain.”

“That line is weird”, Henry interrupted, staring at the little smudge Nerissa’s pen had left where the squiggle of the “g” ended.

“You think so? Is it not, in fact, most accurate? Think about it, darkness is all around you always, and you had no torch before we made it to the nibbler colony. Loneliness you faced when I was kidnapped by the spinners, and pain, well, does that eye still hurt or what?”

“It’s even in order”, Henry muttered, and the flier nodded. “And about the gain – if you even for a second think to claim you didn’t reap any gain from your time as an outcast, including all those ordeals, I will carry you out and throw you into the river with the flesh-eating fish.”

Henry managed a laugh. “I say no such thing. Though I lost much, I admit the gain wasn’t cheap either.”

“You reconcile, offset the wrong – well, you sought out your friends on their quest in an attempt to reconcile, right?”

“Even though I... didn’t have to.”

The flier’s head darted around. “You...”

Henry averted his gaze. “I... yeah, I remember now. I had time to think, on the fly. It’s somewhat chaotic and fragmentary, but I remember the most important parts, I believe.” He finally looked back at the flier, “Namely how you tried to stop me from going, and why...”, he took a deep breath, “why I went... alone.”

This time it was Thanatos who averted his eyes. “I am sorry. For that argument. I should not have tried to stop you, hadn’t I stopped you, you would not have... your eye would...”, but Henry cut him off – “It’s whatever. I get it. Kind of. I think. I mean, you were right in a way, I didn’t... HAVE to go. I’m still glad I did, despite what happened to my eye. Had it not gotten me, the serpent would have gotten Luxa.”

The flier remained silent, so it was Henry who turned his attention back on the prophecy. “To find your fate... not on your own? What?”, he furrowed his brows, “do you know what this is supposed to mean?”

Thanatos shook his head. “It’s... ambiguous, to say the least. Whether it is supposed to mean you will require help to discover your fate, or... or that your fate is to not be alone, or neither, I am unsure.”

“Honestly, I’m unsure whether I like any of those options”, Henry mumbled and, despite the flier’s glare in his back, kept reading – “Heart and blade alight, you run – the flaming sword, I’m pretty sure.” He gave the backpack that held the barrel with the ignifer pellets a nudge. “Condemner, savior has become. Well, I condemned everyone when I betrayed them, and now saved them – or will save, later... maybe.” He recalled his own idea, “Hey, I know you objected last time, but what if we DO make this a thing? Henry, the masked savior of the questers!”, he laughed, “They won’t even know what hit them.”

“You mean...”, Thanatos tilted his head, “the Death Rider, the masked savior of the questers.”

Henry stared at the flier for a moment, then back at the prophecy, and allowed the words to sink in. “Henry... the Death Rider...”, he mumbled, unable to keep his hand from shaking. “Henry, the –” He froze in shock. “Wait! Dammit, how the hell did I forget?”

Thanatos’ head shot up but the exiled prince ignored him, “I’m such an IDIOT!” He dropped the prophecy, got a hold of his mother’s notebook, and scattered all his things on the floor in search of a pencil.

“Henry, what the hell are you doing?”

But he ignored the flier and began drawing over his own sketch, finally holding it up triumphantly. “I had focused so much on the human as a child that I completely forgot the mural was not only of him!”

“A flier...”, Thanatos mumbled.

“A flier... with a skull-shaped mask on his face!”, Henry exclaimed, “I could never make sense of that detail, in fact, I always found it ridiculous, but now –”, Thanatos and he exchanged glances. “It is you. It can only be you. You are the only flier for whom the image makes any sense.”

Thanatos nodded, his gaze on the sketch of the flier, spreading his wings beside the cloaked figure. “You and... I”, his voice sounded aghast, and Henry followed his eyes, staring at his own drawing. “You and I.”

“I can’t believe...”, Henry muttered, tracing the lines of his sketch, “my entire childhood I was looking at a mural of... myself. And you.” He was silent for a moment, then pensively tilted his head. “It wasn’t a coincidence you saved me, not by this prophecy, this mural. And neither is it one that we remained together.” Henry thought back to how Thanatos had wanted to leave him in the Dead Land when they had first met, considered how many times they had almost split up. But it hadn’t been their... destiny.

It was strange, normally they knew the prophecy ahead of time. When it came to this one, its events lied in the past – well, some of them, at least. But maybe it was better this way, just this once.

“What you essentially just tried to get at, was, that you ask yourself if we will ever be bonds, right?” Henry froze. Was that what he had meant? He was unsure himself. “I... I mean...”

“Hey, and what happened to that bonds-are-useless-attitude you had earlier? Last time I checked you were still angry with your previous one.”

“I’m over it”, Henry shrugged and found he meant it this time. But before he could elaborate, Thanatos interrupted – “Henry, we can’t bond.”

For some reason, his words hit like a blow to the face. He had uttered them before, but that had been in front of people, and...

The exiled prince opened his mouth but the flier still did not let him speak “Because...”, he stared at the floor like it was the most fascinating object in the world, “I maybe, kind of, forgot to mention that it would be... for the second time. And that is just pointless.”

Henry sat, like rooted to the spot. Was that...? His gaze met his hand, the image he had attempted to dismiss flashed before his inner eye. “You...”, he stammered, “I... I remember, I think...”

“Listen”, Henry could have sworn he saw angry pride in Thanatos’ eyes, “you were being stubborn as ever, there was no other way to convince you to let me save you. And you’re not dying, not on my damn watch. Got it?”

“Hey, why are you justifying it like...”, Henry snorted, but could not suppress a grin, before he realized something else – “Wait, I ASKED you for what had happened when I told you I didn’t remember anything... and you JUST SO HAPPEN to have left out the MINOR DETAIL that we’re BONDS now?!”

“Well”, the flier uncomfortably shifted, “it’s not like it... changes much, right? Technically, at least.”

“WHAT?!”, Henry called, spinning around to him, “you’ve got to be kidding me! It’s... you... what do you mean it doesn’t change much?”

“Well, we’ve been bonds ever since last night, and did you notice any changes?”, the flier lied back down, “I don’t mean it like it’s meaningless, but... we are the way we are, right? Bonds or... no bonds.”

Henry meant to object, to voice so many of his swirling thoughts, but found not the spirit or strength. Not now. Instead, he lied back down, head leaned on the flier’s back, and closed his eye. “Whatever you say...” His hand still clutched the scroll with the prophecy. “But you are aware you’ll now have me on your back for the rest of our lives, literally and figuratively.”

“Oh yeah”, Thanatos laughed, “and before you ask again – yes, I know I will regret this someday. And yet I have a feeling I will also not.”

The exiled prince frowned, but the flier spoke on – “Don’t. Don’t try to understand that. It made no sense, even to me.”

“You know what”, Henry laughed, “fair enough.”


	27. Epilogue

Henry held out his arms and barely kept himself from screaming in joy as Thanatos soared over the open water. The fabric the spinners had woven for his wing worked like a charm, apparently. They had decided to test it over the waterway and the flier moved with ease, claiming he could nearly not feel the difference.

The exiled prince rose a little from where he lied on his back and grinned as the familiar sensation of freedom, flying over open water always brought with itself, took over. The tip of Thanatos’ wing was still broken, but the spinners had stabilized and splinted it properly and it would heal soon. Overall they had worked a miracle – apparently, there were not only assassins but also skilled medics among them.

They had woven special fabric for the flier of the Bringer of Buzzer Wings and even though they had had to sever a little more tissue to have a cleaner cut, the result they had produced was impeccable.

His flier, Henry thought and his hand darted to the handle of Mys at his hip. The spinners had given the piece of tissue they’d had to cut to Henry, and Thanatos had joked he could tie it around Mys’ handle. Henry had taken the joke literally and done exactly that. He closed his hand around it – Thanatos was definitely happier about his choice than he admitted.

“You know, I am starting to get a hang of this outcast-thing!”, he screamed against the wind, yet instantly regretted it as a jolt of pain pierced his eye. He collapsed back onto the flier’s back and sighed. The bandage still felt foreign on his face, and it still stung when he moved or rose too quickly. Or when he screamed, apparently.

“You only notice that NOW?”

“Kind of”, Henry mumbled, watching the waves below fly by. “You know – you were right, back at the nibbler colony. It’s weird saying that now, after what happened to my eye, but I understand now what you meant.” He touched the fresh bandage and winced, “You know, the part where you said you can only change as much as you let yourself change. I get it now.”

“About time.”

Henry ignored the mocking and closed his exhausted eye. He smiled – what would his half-a-year-younger self say if he saw him now? What would the spoilt, clueless Prince of Regalia, who had taken his power and status for granted, say if he saw him, Henry, the... whatever he was now.

Well, he wasn’t an entirely different person, not even remotely. But that was what Thanatos had meant, right? He had been compelled to adapt, to learn, and to change, but not to change who he was.

Hadn’t the same traits that had held him back and deemed him a troublemaker in Regalia saved his life out here? Henry nearly laughed. Pride is not a virtue, he had been told, bragging or overestimating yourself will only lead to disappointment and failure. Well, eat your words then, he thought. It had been his pride, his unshakable will to prove himself, to eliminate all his weakness and incompetence, that had given him the strength to pull through out here, and to not simply make empty claims, but persevere and achieve the goals he had set, be they as crazy as inventing a flaming sword.

Henry had learned more about life in the last six months than in the sixteen years before that. Who would have ever thought he was one for skills like echolocation, like another tongue? For leading a colony of crawlers into victory against an army of cutters? For killing one of Gorger’s former generals with his bare hands? For riding on the back of a damn serpent?

Henry smiled, okay, maybe that last one he would have done sooner as well. Given he wouldn’t have known it would cost him an eye, of course.

For a moment the self-doubt he had felt earlier flooded him, how much of it could he still replicate now, with the state of his eye?

Then again – maybe he was overthinking it. The damn eye could go sit on a tack, he would find a way out of the trouble it had brought, and it would certainly not diminish his accomplishments or his pride.

It was an impressive list of skills exile had taught him, and it was far from complete. Excitement rose in his chest – he had thought his life over so many times, yet it seemed like it was only just beginning.

“I changed so much, and yet I remained myself”, Henry finally concluded.

“And yet you remained a clueless idiot, you mean?”

He flicked at Thanatos’ ear for that. “You’re one to talk, you and your never-ending commitment issues. Right, “I only bonded to you because it was the only way to save you” – was it?”

In response, Thanatos performed a tight air-roll and Henry barely clung to his neck, crying in shock and pain from the sudden movement, “CUT THAT OUT!”, but the flier only laughed. “I thought you LIKED stunts so much.”

They flew in silence for another five minutes before Henry reluctantly voiced what he felt he owed the flier – “Hey, I never said thank you. For saving me earlier. I mean, you know that I don’t really ever say thank you, and now that we’re bonds, it’s hardly necessary anymore as it’s exactly what a bond is, but as that happened BEFORE we bonded, I guess I have to say it.”

“What an honor”, Thanatos scoffed. “I only screwed my own wing over in the process. No big deal.”

“Oh, you will be fine. We all know you’ll be fine. The Rider can hardly lose Death only days after finding out who he was.”

Thanatos laughed. “You’re not going to shut up about this ever, are you? You great Death Rider. How about you act the part too, and stop behaving like a kid on his birthday?”

“Okay, first of all, I just found out I am my own childhood idol, so my excitement is justified, please and thanks. Second, I have finally found a suitable exile-name. You know, for when I can’t introduce myself as Henry. And third – you said it wrong. I’m not the Death Rider”, Henry paused and smiled, “we are the Death Rider.”

Thanatos hesitated, “Yes. A Rider without Death is hardly a Death Rider.”

“What...? Use WORDS, please. My head hurts”, Henry complained, “It’s still hard to think, okay?”

“Is it ever not for you?”

“Shut the hell up”, the exiled prince hissed. “I’m tired. All prophecies are fulfilled, are they not? Does that mean we get a break?”

“I doubt the Prophecy of the Death Rider has entirely played out yet”, Thanatos mumbled. “Some of it seems like it speaks of future events. Though that hardly means we can not take a break. You said it yourself, obsessing over prophecies is dumb.”

Henry laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. Like, there’s nothing wrong with studying them, but the length some people go to for them is ridiculous if you ask me. Ha”, he snorted, “there once was this council member who was arrested for attempting to deface the palace. Apparently, he had read in some prophecy it was expected of him. Nerissa later said it had merely supposed to be a metaphor to express he was the weak link in the council, “defacing” it from within, and should be discharged. Guess what happened?”

“They discharged him?”

“They sure did”, Henry shook his head. “Crazy guy, if you ask me. And it’s not like he’s the only one. The whole council is like that. It’s only a sign of a weak mind, to base your every move on an old carving on some wall.”

“Yet if I remember correctly, you yourself were agitated when you did not understand the Prophecy of Gray when we first met.”

“Yeah, UNDERSTAND, not follow it like a lost flutterer chases a light.”

“Fair enough.” The flier hesitated, “Do you think it has played out then? With your choice to stand with them?” He pondered for a moment, “How was that? The last who will die must decide where he stands –”

“– the fate of the eight is contained in his hands”, the exiled prince continued, “so bid him take care, bid him look where he leaps, as life may be death and death life again reaps.”

“The fate of the eight...”, Thanatos hesitated, “We never understood that line, did we? So what if we can now?”

“You mean it refers to... now?” Henry frowned, “That doesn’t add up, there were more than eight people on that boat.”

“But some of them were the same – among them Luxa and Aurora”, the flier remarked. “What if “the eight” are not the group from the last quest only, what if it means a set group of people, of... how do you call them? Questers. Your choice to stand with them certainly saved Luxa this time. Like your choice had their fate contained in your hands.”

Henry nodded. “You... you have a point”, his gaze trailed ahead and he watched the waves quietly break on the scaley cliff to their left, remembering his own forced bath in the waterway, after Thanatos had been kidnapped. “But how do we know who it is?”

“It matters little, I believe”, Thanatos shook his head. “What matters is that their fate, whoever exactly the eight are, was and could in the future still be contained in your hands.”

“You mean...”, excitement rose in him, “you’re not against my masked-savior-of-the-questers-idea anymore?”

“Condemner, savior has become it said, I believe”, Thanatos sighed. “And I am not so foolish to believe I can actually stop you. Not anymore.”

“Well, fair.” Henry grinned. “And you know what, this time I took care where I leaped, even if I only leaped from one serpent to another.”

“And I... and Death saved your life... again.”

“Death life... again reaps”, Henry mumbled, “you’re right. It says “again”. I never questioned that, honestly.”

“And Death became the Death Rider”, Thanatos mumbled. “Death and his Rider. I did not even think about it when I introduced us that way.”

“Death Rider needs a break”, Henry only mumbled, earning himself a laugh from the flier. “Oh really?”

“Yeah... I need time to let my eye heal. Your wing too.” And there’s the depth perception issue, he thought but decided to not say out loud.

“And what did the great Rider of Death have in mind?”, Thanatos asked. “The nibbler colony?”

Henry shook his head. “Way too far away. That’s east of the waterway, we are in the west. I was thinking of something else. Remember that crawler island I told you about?”

“You want to take your break... among crawlers?” Thanatos shook his head. “Interesting choice. But sounds like a plan.”

“Well, the crawlers won’t bother us, they respect me too much.”

“That respect sure isn’t mutual”, the flier mumbled.

“Who cares, it’s crawlers”, the exiled prince scoffed and rose again as Thanatos turned. Once more Henry spread his arms and this time, despite the eye, he screamed at the top of his lungs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for finishing this story! If you liked it, please leave a review with your thoughts and treat yourself to the outro-video I made, it contains information on possible SEQUELS and shares CONCEPT ART I made for this story.
> 
> https://youtu.be/AEojKM1Jr08


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